The Triangle
by catherine2020
Summary: Elena faces many challenges - vengeful tomb vamps, bitter witches and, of course, Katherine. Through it all, who can she turn to - Stefan or Damon?
1. Chapter 1

Ever since Katherine had blown back into town, her menacing presence always just out of reach, Stefan and Damon had taken turns watching over Elena, making sure nothing else happened in the house. Jeremy had had to have his stomach pumped at the hospital, and mostly stayed in his room blasting loud obnoxious music as he mourned Anna and hated Elena. Jenna too was unusually quiet after they had found Uncle John dead in the kitchen, fingers severed and a stab wound in his gut.

Elena had walked into the kitchen just a split-second before Katherine had darted out the back door, and just for that briefest of seconds their eyes had locked. Katherine's face was still distorted, eyes blaringly red, veins prominent on her cheeks, fangs sharp and white. She had narrowed her eyes at the look of perfect shock on Elena's face – and then the ghost of a smile turned up just one corner of her mouth before she had turned and blurred away, leaving Elena a dead bloody John on the floor and a hell of a mess to clean up.

Literally and figuratively.

Now Stefan was back in bodyguard mode, shadowing her everywhere, and Damon picked up the slack when Stefan had to hunt or was out looking for that bitch that was ruining Elena's life. And vice versa. Life wouldn't get back to normal – whatever that was – until Katherine was dealt with. Whatever that meant. And Elena just had to deal with it….and deal with Damon, who seemed to be on her mind all the time lately…

…but Elena pushed that traitorous thought out of her mind as she stretched in her warm bed on a deliciously chilly Saturday morning. Autumn took a long time to reach Mystic Falls, but it seemed it was finally here, a week after Founders' Day. Stefan's arm came around her, warm and strong, nestling her closer to him, her back against his muscular chest. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"Morning," he said softly into her ear, and she shivered, goose bumps rising on her arm.

"Hi," she replied back, and he shifted until he was on top of her, weight braced on his elbows. He kissed her and she sighed against his mouth. She loved him so much….

…but a memory of bright blue eyes haunted her as Stefan deepened the kiss and his hand slowly slid up her stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

Stefan had left after their morning romp to hunt for his breakfast, so Elena showered and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. She clattered down the stairs and made for the kitchen, where Jenna was already eating a late breakfast of eggs and toast. She looked up at Elena and smiled half-heartedly.

"Hey, I didn't hear the shower," Jenna remarked as she moved her eggs around with her fork. Elena frowned at her, directing a pointed look to Jenna's breakfast as she opened a cabinet door and removed a cereal box.

"You need to eat all of that, Aunt Jenna," Elena replied in a stern voice, and Jenna rolled her eyes as she forked up more eggs.

"Yes, Mom," she sing-songed. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes before Jeremy's ear-splitting music shattered the peaceful kitchen. Jenna and Elena looked at each other, worry clear on their faces.

"I don't know what to do with him anymore…Anna running away and the whole pill episode…maybe he needs to see someone," Jenna said, forehead creasing. "I'll ask around at school, see if I can get any recommendations."

"Let me try again," Elena said hurriedly, dumping her cereal bowl in the sink and heading out of the kitchen. _That's all we need,_ she thought to herself as she went upstairs. _That doctor would get an earful._

She knocked lightly on Jeremy's door before peeking inside. Her brother, fully dressed, was just lying on his bed, hands folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Loud music instantly deafened her, and she pushed her way inside, turning the stereo down on her way to him.

"Jer, please, please, talk to me," she begged, sitting down on the side of his bed. Jeremy continued to stare up at the ceiling, ignoring her. She sighed, looking down at his comforter, picking at it with her fingernails.

"I know you hate me," she said quietly, still not looking at him. "But I love you, and I won't stop until I make it right, Jeremy, you're my brother and I know you're hurting inside-"

He came up off the bed so quickly he scared her, glaring into her eyes inches away from her face.

"You don't know _anything," _he snarled at her. "I have nobody left, Elena, not even you. I _trusted_ you, and you lied to me, about _everything_."

Elena took a deep breath. This was her _brother_, and he wouldn't hurt her, she reminded herself, even though he was right up on her, looking more furious than she could remember, and when had he gotten so _big?_ "Jer, I was trying to protect you, and I'm sorry -"

"I'm tired of hearing you _say that!"_ He yelled, grabbing her by the upper arms, so forceful she winced as her eyes flew open in shock – and yes, fright. Before she could say anything, though, Jeremy suddenly flew backwards on the bed, banging against the headboard and hitting his head. Her eyes widened even further as she saw Damon, who had come out of nowhere, towering over Jeremy, eyes slitted and face stern, his hand on Jeremy's shoulder

"You do _not_ touch your sister," he growled at Jeremy, who looked back up at him warily. "Do it again and I'll do some touching of my own, got it?" He gave Jeremy a little shake, fingers digging in.

"Asshole," Jeremy grunted, looking away and making a big production out of straightening his shirt and pulling his shoulder out of Damon's grasp. Damon straightened up, eyes traveling over Elena as he ascertained her well-being. Elena nodded at him, frowning slightly.

"That wasn't necessary, Damon," she admonished, and he snorted, straightening up and looking at her.

"Yeah, well, I thought it was," he retorted, glaring down at Jeremy, who glared right back. Elena sighed.

"Jeremy, I love you," she said dejectedly, rising up from the bed and giving him a last look. Jeremy refused to look up at her, eyes fixed on the bed, and she turned away, looking over her shoulder. Damon ruffled Jeremy's hair and followed her through the bathroom into her room, shutting the door behind him.

"So how long have you been here?" she asked, folding her arms in a no-nonsense manner. Damon smirked as he advanced further into the room…right. Up. close, to the point where they were almost touching. She blinked and his mouth widened into an all-out self-satisfied grin.

"Long enough, princess," he replied, eyes drifting down to her mouth and back up to her eyes. "What do you want to do now? We're _all alone."_

She took only the tiniest fraction of a second longer to admire how blue – and how close – his eyes were before she turned away, walking over to the coat rack to grab her leather jacket.

"Oh, please," she threw over her shoulder as she started to put her jacket on, and quick as a flash, he was there to hold it for her. She turned around, and there was that smile again to greet her.

"Well, I wouldn't mind hearing you say that _again,"_ he drawled, and she shook her head at him as she swept her purse up from the dresser.

"Damon, cut it out," she said as her hand found her keys. "You do realize I'm going to the boarding house, right? _To be with Stefan."_

"Ah, yes," he said, following her down the stairs and out the door to her car, opening the door for her as she remote-unlocked it. "The wind beneath your wings, as I recall."

"Are you getting in or not? I'm leaving," she retorted, and he chuckled as he sat in the passenger seat. As she steered through the streets to the Salvatore residence, she couldn't help thinking to herself how _good_ he smelled…was that him or some sort of expensive cologne, she wondered, as she turned onto the remote road that led to the boarding house, thickly forested on either side…

And then –

"Elena, look out!" Damon yelled.

There was something – some_one_ – in the road ahead of them.


	3. Chapter 3

Elena swerved sharply to avoid whatever _that_ was in the road directly in front of them – she caught just a glimpse of a _vampire?_ – and the car's tires skidded sickeningly on wet leaves in the road from a previous night's storm. The car seemed to fly off the road and into a large oak tree within a matter of seconds. The air bags exploded into being, and Elena's seatbelt locked painfully against her chest and shoulder. Dimly, she registered the fact that Damon had thrust his arm between her and the airbag, so her face wasn't burned by the hot material, and she had been pinned back to the seat, so the seatbelt wouldn't do too much damage.

However, not even Damon could stop the windshield and her window imploding, and she could feel glass cut her forehead and part of her scalp, as well as her left arm, and she was still fighting for breath as he ripped the airbag away and disposed just as quickly of her seatbelt.

"Elena!" he cried, eyes and hands running over her lightning-quick. "Elena, are you hurt? Answer me!"

But she just kept making that same _whooping_ noise, trying to get air and feeling something stabbing into her side every time. Blood flowed down her forehead into her eyes – she had read somewhere that head wounds bled a lot, she reasoned, though that thought seemed far away.

"Christ - " she heard Damon say, and then he scooped her up and they were both out of the car in less than a second, and he was laying her down on the cold ground as she kept trying to get a solid breath in and her blood stained her shirt. Her right hand flexed, fingers opening and closing, as she dimly watched Damon hover above her. The smell of her blood must have gotten to him; he vamped out as his fingers probed her ribs, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"Broken rib," he muttered to himself as his eyes frantically flew back to her face. His fingertips traced her head wounds, light as feathers, and then her arm. Suddenly he used his fangs to rip his wrist open, holding it to her mouth.

"Drink, baby," he said in a soothing voice, one hand slipping around to cup the back of her head, supporting her as he held his bleeding wrist to her lips. "Come on, Elena, just a little, and it will heal you."

Elena had just enough time to register the fact that his quiet voice and gentle touch totally didn't go with his scary vampire face, dark red eyes and sharp fangs, before his blood trickled down her throat, making her cough, but it stayed down. It tasted metallic, like sucking on a penny, and her stomach heaved, but it stayed down…

…and then she could _feel_ the wounds closing, the blood stopping, the pain in her side fade away. She took a deep breath and found that she could.Damon's face transformed back to normal when she stopped bleeding, and he looked relieved, though his eyes were still dark with…emotion? Slowly, he moved his wrist away, absently wiping it on his dark pants, eyes fixed on her face.

"D-Damon," she croaked, then cleared her throat, that taste still in her mouth. She struggled to sit up, and he helped her, though by the time she was all the way up she was feeling better. Her eyes skittered over to her car; the front end was accordion in. He saw where she was looking and shook his head sharply.

"Don't even worry about that," he said, sounding like the old Damon, and nothing like he had just a few seconds ago. "We'll tell Jenna a deer ran in front of you and -"

Did he even know that his other hand was rubbing her leg? She cleared her throat again and spoke, relatively normally, she thought.

"No, Damon, who _was _that? In the road!"

She didn't like the look on his face when he answered.


	4. Chapter 4

"That was Frederick," he said shortly, picking her up again and turning away from her car wreck. Then they were traveling down the road, the boarding house still yards away. She figured that he wasn't running because he didn't want to jostle her, though she felt a lot better. Almost by reflex, her arms stole up around his neck, and he glanced down at her with a trace of a smug grin on his lips….her eyes stayed just a second too long on his lips, and she blinked, focusing straight ahead on the trees in front of her.

"Who's Frederick? And why was he in the road like that?" she asked, and he let out a breath as the house grew closer in front of them…she rested her head against his broad shoulder, and she could have sworn he tightened his grip on her, just slightly…

"A tomb vamp," he replied, and then stopped short when a broken front window on the house came into view.

"What the hell -" he said, and then they were flying the short distance to the house, up the stairs, and inside, where he set her down on her feet. They both hurried into the great room, where Stefan was sitting up against a table, blood on his shirt and a large shard of glass in his hand. She ran to him, bending down and running her hand across the jagged rip in his shirt. No wound.

As she was doing that, Stefan's eyes grew wide as he took in _her _bloody, ripped clothing. Quickly, he pushed himself up, taking her in the process, hands running over her body just as Damon had done to her before.

"What the hell happened to you?" he exclaimed, gaze shifting to Damon, who shook his head as he walked over to pour himself a drink.

"Frederick – apparently he was here? – ran out in front of Elena's car as we were coming here," he explained, scotch splashing into a glass. "She caught some wet leaves and we hit a tree. I made her drink some of my blood to fix her up, and hey presto, here we are, safe and sound."

Elena placed her hands on Stefan's forearms, forcing him to look at her.

"I'm fine, Stefan," she said quietly, repeating herself until he met her gaze and truly heard what she was saying. Finally, he nodded in acceptance, though his fingertips came up to trace the still-healing pink line on her forehead and scalp. He kissed her lips very gently and then stood back a little, looking at her ruined clothing.

"Let's get you into something clean, and then we'll call Jenna and explain what happened," he said, turning her around to face the stairs. "Then we'll talk about what went on here."

As they left the room, Elena turned back to look at Damon, who was standing by the fire, his gaze following her out of the room.

"Thank you," she said softly. He shrugged, downing his drink.

"No problem, damsel in distress," he mocked, but there was something in his eyes…

They turned back around and went upstairs, where Stefan gave her a white button-down shirt after she cleaned up in the bathroom, and insisted on helping her change, though she kept telling him she was fine now. After he checked her _very_ thoroughly, he sighed and kissed her again, holding her close to him. They stayed that way for a few long moments, each relieved that the other was healthy and whole, before they went back downstairs to powwow with Damon about the break-in.


	5. Chapter 5

When they were all seated in the great room – Damon had boarded up the window in the short time they had been upstairs – Stefan explained that he had just returned from hunting when Frederick had crashed through the window and attacked him. He had managed to fend the vengeful vampire off and he had fled, presumably right into the road where Elena had then driven straight into a tree to avoid him.

"What does he want revenge for?" she asked, and Stefan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing.

"Being locked up below that church for over a century," he replied, taking her hand. "For all the pain they had to endure before finally entering a comatose-like state – "

"It's no picnic," Damon sarcastically cut in, giving Stefan a dirty look. Stefan rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Well, if you hadn't insisted on treating Caroline like a snack and killing Tanner – " he began, but Elena squeezed his hand and he subsided. Damon glanced over at her, too.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," she said. "We need to figure out how to keep Frederick out of the house, if he can just come in anytime he feels like it."

"And we can't forget about that bitch," Damon interjected. There was no need to ask who "that bitch" was; they all knew he was talking about Katherine. Stefan nodded in agreement, and the brothers exchanged a look that Elena couldn't decipher – then they both looked at her.

_What do they see when they look at me?_ she thought. _Do they see me, Elena, or do they see – _her?_ Why do I look like her? Sometimes I wish I had never seen her picture –or her….._

Out loud, she said, "We have to call Aunt Jenna and tell her what happened to my car, so she can call the insurance people before the office closes."

Stefan kissed her cheek before getting up and going for the cordless phone in the next room…and she was left alone with Damon, who stared at her from the leather sofa a few feet in front of her.

"Sticking with the deer story?" he asked, and she nodded slowly.

"It seems easiest," she replied, and he said nothing, only kept looking at her with those eyes of his, and then he glanced down, breaking eye contact as he spoke, and then Stefan came back in with the phone, unknowingly breaking the tension that had suddenly risen between her and Damon.


	6. Chapter 6

Later that day, after Aunt Jenna and the car had been dealt with, Elena and Stefan lay on his bed, fully clothed, just being with each other. Damon had gone out somewhere and they were alone in the big house. The day had darkened ominously, low clouds threatening rain or maybe even flurries.

"So the plan is what, exactly?" she asked, looking intently into his green, green eyes and seeing his love for her. He gave her a knowing look, arms tightening around her protectively.

"The plan is none of your concern, Elena," he told her in a stern voice. "You will stay here, safe and sound, and Damon and I will track down Frederick. Maybe he can lead us to wherever Katherine is."

She huffed in exasperation. "I'm not helpless, Stefan! I can – "

"You can _what_, Elena?" he said, cutting her off. "Get your neck snapped? Damon gave you some of his blood this morning; it takes a few days to pass out of your system. If something happens to you before then, you become one of us."

_One of us._ It reminded Elena of when Damon had taken her to Georgia, and she had seen Lexi's formerly human boyfriend. _In order to be together forever, you had to live forever._ Was that what she wanted?

She pushed the thought out of her mind. There were more important issues to deal with presently. "So I stay here _all alone?"_ she replied, stressing the last words. He smiled at her insistence.

"If you're residing here, little human, no vampires can come in unless you invite them," he said. She sighed, giving up. They weren't going to let her come with them…but as Stefan kissed her, she was already forming a plan…

Later that night, after Damon had returned from town, or wherever he had gone, they were down in the great room again. A blazing fire outlined the brothers as they gathered wooden stakes together and Elena as she gazed upon them in mounting frustration.

"I can come, you know," she insisted as they both looked at her like she was nuts. "I'll hide far enough away just to watch, or something – "

"Elena, they'll be able to smell you," Damon interrupted, rolling his eyes at her as he shrugged on his leather jacket, straightening the collar. Stefan came over to her, running his warm hands up and down her arms as she glared at him.

"Please, sweetheart," he implored. "I – _we_ – " he amended, glancing over his shoulder at Damon, who stood there watching, "don't want to worry about you out there by yourself when we're trying to look for that asshole."

"You'll be distracting, babe," Damon said helpfully, tossing a stake back and forth between his hands. Stefan nodded in agreement, and Elena gave up for real this time. They would know if she followed, no matter how great the distance….and Katherine was still out there, somewhere. Elena didn't want to meet up with her in the dark woods alone.

"Alright," she said quietly. "I'll stay here, but what if something happens? I won't know."

Damon made a rude sound. "Really? I don't think so." He shot Stefan an impatient look. "Are you coming, Prince Charming? Because we need to get a move on." With that, he strode out of the room.

Stefan kissed Elena. "We'll be back soon," he promised against her mouth, and Elena kissed him back.

"I love you, Stefan," she whispered, and he gave her a little smile before he kissed her again.

"I love you, too," he replied, squeezing her arms slightly before he too left. And then she was alone, just her and the fire and the encroaching night outside the (unbroken) windows.

It was then that she realized that she had forgotten to return to her house for a change of clothes; she had left some toiletries up in Stefan's room, but no clothes. As she turned to grab her cell phone, she spotted her tote bag on one of the loveseats. Puzzled, she went over to it, opening it up and seeing a pair of jeans and another shirt, as well as some underwear. Where had it come from?

And then she realized. Damon had been out. He must have gone to her house to pack a change of clothes for her, so she wouldn't have to leave the safety of the boarding house.

Clothes in hand, she lifted her gaze to stare at the fire, lost in thought….


	7. Chapter 7

It had been two hours, and no sign of either brother. Elena had curled up on the couch in front of the fire, at first reading a book from the vast Salvatore library, and then talking to Bonnie, filling her in on the day's events.

Suddenly, she heard a weird noise. She stopped talking, concentrating on the quiet.

"Elena?" Bonnie asked as she realized Elena wasn't listening to her anymore.

"I heard a noise," Elena replied, eyes sweeping the huge room. She had turned all the lights on, so there were no shadows, but the large entryways were dim. It was hard to look everywhere at once, and she felt a little nervous.

Then she heard the noise again. But from where?

"Bonnie, I think there's someone in the house," she whispered into the phone, afraid to move or speak in a normal tone of voice. She kept looking around, but still didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"I'm coming over there," Bonnie said in a reassuring tone, but that didn't make Elena feel any better; Bonnie was a good ten minutes away, safe at her Grams' house, while Elena was way out in the middle of nowhere.

Before Elena could say anything else, there was a loud noise at the front door, like something heavy had been thrown against it. She gasped loudly into the phone.

"What is it?" Bonnie inquired urgently from the other end, and Elena didn't know what to say, until she heard a voice.

"Elena, open the door, I can't get it!"

Damon's voice. Coming from outside the door.

"It's Damon," Elena said with relief, leaping up from the couch and hurrying to the door. She hesitated when Bonnie said, "Are you sure?"

"Damon?" Elena said in what she hoped was a brave voice as she stared at the heavy wooden door. She wished there was some sort of peephole, so she could look out.

"I'm carrying Stefan, he's been hurt. Hurry up, princess!" Definitely Damon.

That was all Elena needed to hear.

"Bonnie, hold on a minute," she said, putting the phone down on a nearby table. She flung the door open.

And there stood Bree, from Atlanta, and a man Elena had never seen before. They grinned evilly at her.

"Thank you," Bree almost purred. In Damon's voice. Elena stared at her in shock.

"Witches come in handy," the man said, shrugging.

Elena made to shut the door, but Bree narrowed her eyes and the door refused to move. Elena backed up hastily, eyes wide.

"You can't come in!" she yelled, but they only laughed at her. Bree stepped over the threshold into the house, coming closer to Elena.

"I'm not a vampire, sweetheart," she said in a mocking tone of voice. Then she intoned something in Latin, and Elena suddenly couldn't move. It was like she was frozen in place. She tried to run, tried to break free, but to no avail.

The woman pushed her towards the door like she was a piece of furniture; when she reached the other side of the door, the spell was broken, but the man had grabbed her with hands of steel.

But she could still scream.

"Bonnie! Call Stefan!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs – and then Bree knocked her cell phone to the ground, grinding it under her heel.

"That's enough," the man growled, and vamped out as he held her to him. "Shut up, or I'll _make _you shut up."

The woman tut-tutted. "She doesn't want her hurt." She looked over at Elena. "Yet."

"Why are you _doing_ this?" Elena cried. "I thought you were Damon's friend!"

Bree looked at her like Elena had suddenly sprouted wings. "Didn't Damon tell you why Lexi's boyfriend attacked him? I set him up – and he ripped my heart out for it."

Then she fingered her necklace, a chunky blue stone strung on a velvet ribbon.

"It's a good thing I was wearing backup," she said softly. "Even then, I was able to come back…" She stopped suddenly, focusing on Elena. "So I'd like to _thank_ Damon for showing me such a good time…have you ever tried to regrow your own heart in your chest? It's just a little painful."

Then she said something else in another language, and Elena felt her eyes growing heavy. She fought it, but they closed against her will..and then she knew no more.


	8. Chapter 8

When Elena opened her eyes again, she was in a basement. She looked down at herself – she was tied to a chair in the middle of the big room, and as she slowly looked around, she noticed it wasn't a scary, dirty basement, but rather well-lit and clean. Was she in someone's house? But who?

Suddenly there was movement on the stairs and then someone stood in front of her. The man who had taken her from the boarding house. He smiled at her, and it wasn't a nice smile. She stared at him as she suddenly remembered –

"You're Frederick!" she exclaimed. "You were in the road!"

"That wasn't by accident," he muttered as he stared at her, really raking his eyes over her. "You look just like her…"

_Jeez, if I had a nickel…_ "Why am I here?" she demanded, even though inside she was scared. But he didn't have to know that. He shrugged.

"You're the bait...at least, for _my_ plans," he answered. "But when I'm done with you, there's someone else who would like a word."

"Who would that be?" Good, she still sounded not scared. He smirked at her, raising his eyebrows.

"Katherine," he answered, and she felt her insides freeze. _Katherine. _Would she just kill her outright? Or would it be slow and painful?

Okay, focus on the immediate danger. She could worry about her great-grandmother _(how weird was that?) _later. Right now…

"What am I bait for, then?" she shot back at him, and he snorted, reaching down for her. She twisted in the chair, but really, there was nowhere to go.

"The _Salvatore_ brothers," he spat as he ripped the rope and caught her as she half-fell out of the chair, limbs asleep. He turned her around, propelling her across the basement, but she was slow as her feet tingled and refused to move. Grunting impatiently, he grabbed her around the waist and carried her up the stairs like a sack of potatoes. Before she could ask any more questions, as they reached the top of the stairwell, she heard very welcome voices.

_Stefan. Damon. _

But was it really Stefan and Damon? Or that other witch again?

She didn't have long to wonder; they came out into a kitchen and turned a corner into a short foyer-like hallway. At the end was the front door, and there just outside were the real deal, furiously trying to get in, but not succeeding.

"Stefan!" she shrieked, and their eyes focused on her. Frederick laughed, tightening his grip as Elena struggled to break free, but who was she kidding? Vampire strength.

"Let her go!" Damon snarled, and they tried to get in, but came up against some invisible force field. Elena realized suddenly that Bree was at the door, loitering just inside the threshold.

"This is _my_ house," she purred, smiling wickedly at the brothers, who both looked like they were ready to kill her, and everyone else in there. "And you _can't_ come in."

Damon's eyes narrowed as he glared at Bree hatefully. "Breeana. Didn't I kill you?"

Bree smiled an unpleasant smile. "What is it they say, lover? Payback's a bitch? _So am I."_

"Elena," Stefan breathed, looking past the tall witch to Elena, the most awful look on his handsome face. Elena suddenly realized that without an invitation from Bree, they couldn't enter the house.

She was on her own.

And then it got worse.

"I spent over a century in that tomb because of your infatuation with Katherine," Frederick growled, coming closer to the door with Elena still struggling in his arms like a fish on a hook, which didn't really seem to faze him. "It was _your _fault I suffered. Have you ever been starved? It's like being thrown into a fire, alive, and burning – for _a hundred years and more.." _

"She wasn't involved in that," Stefan stated in a slightly reasonable tone, though Elena could hear the fury clashing underneath. Next to him, Damon's blue gaze lasered into Frederick, but he could do nothing, just like his brother. "Just let her go, and – "

"Yeah, okay," Frederick said in a sarcastic tone. "I'll get right on that, you stupid fucks…Not until you pay for what you've done…and I think this will start the games off nicely."

Elena twisted, trying to look behind her at Frederick, and was just in time to watch his face change…his eyes grew ruby red, the veins below his eyes engorged with blood, his fangs grew razor sharp –

Suddenly she knew what he had meant, and her eyes flew back to Damon and Stefan, who now wore almost identical horrified looks, and she had just enough time to gasp out, "No – "

And then Frederick sank his fangs into her neck.

She screamed out in pain. Dimly, she could hear Damon and Stefan, but whatever they were saying didn't matter anymore. The world kind of grayed out around her, and everything shrank down to the fangs buried in her neck, and Frederick sucking out her blood. It hurt worse than anything she ever could have imagined, and she could feel her _life _draining away. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she slowly went limp in his arms, but he contined to feed.

Finally, he stopped, and she felt every millimeter of his fangs leaving her neck, but she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. From very far away, she heard him say, "Delicious," and Bree laughed, but then it was like she was floating…right before she lost consciousness she heard Stefan say in a scary voice she didn't even recognize, "I'm going to _kill _you - "

and then she was gone...


	9. Chapter 9

The brothers stood just outside the doorway, watching as Frederick drank from Elena, watching as she stopped screaming and struggling, watching as her eyes closed and her skin paled and her body went limp as if she were dead.

And they wanted to rip his head from his body.

Slowly.

"I'll fucking k_ill_ him," Damon growled next to Stefan, his eyes locked on the unmoving Elena and the blood that was like an obscenity against her pale skin.

Every muscle in Stefan's body _strained_ to get inside the house, but he just kept bumping up against the witch's refusal to _ let them inside. _All they could do was just _stand _there. Watching.

After what seemed like a year, Frederick lifted his mouth from Elena's delicate neck. His teeth and lips were stained with her precious blood as he smiled at them both.

"Jesus Christ," Stefan breathed in horror.

"Have a good evening," he said, and then laughed, turning around and walking away, carrying an unconsious and bleeding Elena with him. The witch actually _winked_ at them before closing the door in their faces, and then they were left there on the porch.

"Damn it!" Stefan hit the door hard enough to rattle the foundation, but nothing happened. Damon grabbed his arm, and Stefan turned to face him, agony in his eyes. He wasn't really that surprised to see the same emotion mirrored in his brother's blue gaze.

He had known Damon was in love with Elena for a while now.

"We need a human to get inside," Damon said in a low, urgent voice. "Alaric will help," Stefan replied, feeling a little more stable now that they had a plan to get the fuck in the house. "You go. I'll stay here."

Damon glanced at the house and back at Stefan, nodding once before blurring out of sight. Stefan ghosted from the porch, silently making his way to a patch of darkness just off the porch, listening hard for Elena's voice…

…Elena slowly came back to awareness, though she didn't open her eyes. She was back in the damned chair in the basement, and this time she wasn't alone. She could hear Frederick, as well as several other male voices, but not the witch. She kept her eyes closed; maybe they would leave her alone if they thought she was still out of it…but that plan didn't work.

"Hey, I saw her move!" she heard one unfamiliar voice break off and say suddenly.

"Hmm…why don't you fellows go upstairs," she heard Frederick say, and then footsteps came over to her and stopped.

_Should I keep faking it, or open my eyes?_ she thought to herself, but before she could do anything, she heard Frederick chuckle, and then a stinging slap across her face. She cried out in pain, the movement hurting her tender neck, eyes flying open to stare at the malevolent vampire in front of her, who was now grinning broadly.

"Wake up, sunshine," he sing-songed to her. She glared at him, unable to move because of the stupid ropes holding her hostage in the uncomfortable chair. He shrugged, looking her over. She didn't like the way his eyes crawled over her…and then her fears were confirmed with his next sentence.

"You're a hot little piece of ass, aren't you?" he remarked almost to himself, reaching out and touching her breast. She tried to twist away, but it wasn't like she was going anywhere.

"Fuck you," she spat. "They'll kill you for this." God, she felt horrible, weak and tired, but she couldn't let him see that.

Frederick merely snorted as he kept touching her. She shuddered at his touch, though she kept glaring at him. Inside, her stomach twisted into knots. _Please, please, stop touching me….please, please, God, don't let me faint with him here like this…_

"I don't think so, girlie. They can't get in – don't you remember?" Suddenly his face changed, and his blood-red eyes were right up close to her face as he knelt in front of her. She drew in breath quickly, head spinning, eyes flaring slightly in fear. He smiled maliciously at her.

"I can do whatever I want with you," he whispered to her, slowly reaching out with his other hand and ripping her button-down shirt right down the middle, exposing her lacy pink bra. His eyes traveled over her body.

"Nice," he breathed, fingers hooking into her bra, and she gathered up all her courage, _hocked_ like Jeremy had taught her aeons ago, and spit right into his face.

He recoiled and hit her again, harder this time, so her chair tipped over and she was laying on her back, which was really bad, because here came Frederick scrambling over her, panting, ripping her jeans right down the zipper and thrusting his clumsy, thick fingers in her panties. She drew in breath and screamed as they thrust into her, but all he did was laugh.

"Ain't nobody coming down here to help you, bitch," he growled, and then bit her above her right breast. All she could manage for _that_ was a choking cry as she tried to twist her body away from his exploring, unwanted fingers, but with the massive blood loss she had just endured, her body wasn't really obeying her right now. Some distant part of her was amazed that there was any blood left for Frederick to _drink_.

Maybe there wasn't, because she felt his fangs just then slide out of her skin, and he trailed his bloody mouth up from her breasts to her neck, muttering something as he went that sounded suspiciously like –

_Katherine?_

But she couldn't really concentrate too well; things were slipping away from her kind of quickly, and dimly she wondered if she had hit the back of her head when the chair had tipped over, or if it was Frederick drinking pretty much _all_ of her blood, it felt like. This wasn't really a good time to black out again, with him about to rape her and all, but she didn't have much choice…her eyes were closing, despite her very best efforts to keep them open, despite the adrenaline and fear. She felt Frederick remove his fingers from her roughly, and then he was ripping his own jeans, positioning himself over her, grunting in her ear, and she felt something _else_ down there, prodding, seeking entrance, it was invading her…

And then a miracle happened.


	10. Chapter 10

Just before Elena's eyelids closed, she could have sworn she saw a shadow looming above Frederick, and suddenly his heavy, stinking weight was ripped off her; this meant that he was also ripped _out_ of her, and she made a whimpering noise that didn't sound like her at all.

She forced her eyes open so she could see what the hell was going on, and beheld an infuriated, vamped-out Damon slamming Frederick into the wall. Frederick's mouth was still all bloody and disgusting, and she winced inside.

"You piece of shit, I'm going to rip you_ limb from limb,"_ Damon snarled. Frederick came back with some impressive moves, but he was no match for Damon, who was stronger and _way_ more pissed off; but after only a few minutes Frederick was able to wriggle away and he took off up the stairs, moving so fast he was only a slight blur to Elena's tired, heavy eyes. Damon glanced after him, clearly wanting to pursue the malevolent vampire, but in less than a fraction of a second he was with her, ripping the ropes that held her prisoner and tossing them aside. She expected him to pick her up then, but for just a second he didn't. He was just _standing_ there.

Elena forced herself to tilt her head up just a fraction, though it killed her hideous neck wound to do so, so she could see why Damon wasn't moving. Was someone else coming? She didn't understand.

Her eyes traveled up his body to his face, and what she saw there amazed her.

Damon was crying.

_Well, not really_ crying, she amended in her mind as she stared at him. But his eyes were suspiciously shiny-bright as he gazed down at her with a shocked, blank expression on his face. His eyes seemed unable to settle on her, and roamed her body, lingering on her bite wounds, then on her torn jeans.

"Damon," she managed to get out, her voice rough, and his eyes flew to hers, slightly startled looking as if he had been somewhere else for a minute. Then it was like he had just realized she had practically no clothes on, and he ripped his ever-present leather jacket off and swiftly knelt down to her.

Elena thought that he was going to just cover her with his jacket and pick her up, but he surprised her yet again. The tips of his fingers ghosted over her bite marks, then the blood staining her body, as if he couldn't really believe they were there on her body, and he looked up at her with those pain-filled cerulean eyes.

"Elena, I'm so fucking sorry," he whispered brokenly, and a small part of her marveled that she had never heard him sound like that before. Her breath hitched, stupid stray tears leaking out and getting in the way…he made small _shush_ing noises to her as he gently tugged her jeans back together and folded her shirt over her chest before covering her up with his jacket.

Then he lifted her up, her hair streaming behind her, and for a moment cradled her to his chest with one arm so he could touch her face, so softly she could barely feel it, just skimming his fingertips down her cheek, so different from Frederick that she wanted to cry again, she didn't know why, but she felt so_ safe_ in his arms, like there wasn't even a Frederick around, but she knew better because her wounds throbbed and her clothes were a mess and she hurt down below…_oh, God, he was inside me…_

Elena might have went under again, or Damon was just his super-fast self, because before she knew it they were upstairs again in a haunted house she wanted to burn to the ground. The first person they saw was Alaric, vervain darts in one hand and stakes in another, who took one look at Elena and actually paled a little.

"Is she alright?" he asked in a low voice, tearing his eyes away from her and looking at Damon. She felt Damon nod slightly.

"Kind of," he replied in a tight voice. "Where's Stefan? We need to get the fuck out of here. Frederick got away from me…did you happen to see where he went? Or Bree, that traitorous bitch?" His arms tightened slightly around Elena. "I'd like a _word_."

Alaric shook his head, looking back at Elena worridedly. "Does she need to see a doctor?"

Damon shook his head, and Elena turned her head wearily into his hard chest, closing her eyes. "No. I – my brother and I will take care of her. Dispose of the bodies, will you? Bury them deep, or burn them."

Alaric nodded, still looking at Elena, and then Damon was walking out of that house of horrors, onto the porch and the clean crisp air, and she opened her eyes blearily again just in time to watch Stefan stake some unknown vampire in the front yard. He straightened and then stilled when he saw Damon carrying her, and suddenly he was right there in front of her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but couldn't manage to lift her hand.

"S-Stefan," she breathed, and his dark green eyes widened as he looked down at her, taking in her bruised face and sluggishly bleeding neck, then glanced up at Damon.

"Is she – he started to say, but Damon cut him off, making no move to transfer Elena into his arms.

"It's pretty bad, Stef. We need to get her back to the house," Damon informed his brother. Stefan nodded, reaching out to take Elena from Damon's strong arms. For a split-second, Elena didn't think Damon was going to give her up, but then she was in Stefan's equally muscular arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Elena, my love, I'm so sorry, honey, I love you, Jesus Christ," he said all in one rushed breath, and then they were flying through the dark, dark woods, and she turned her head into his chest and closed her eyes for good this time.


	11. Chapter 11

The next Elena knew, she was being laid on a soft bed that smelled like Stefan, and he and Damon were talking over her head – _literally, ha ha_, she thought tiredly to herself, God, she had never felt so tired and drained before – _Elena, you should go on tour with these puns_ –

Then someone tried to take Damon's leather jacket off of her abused body, and she cried out weakly, turning her head on the pillow in protest. The coat remained where it was as whoever was trying to remove it stopped. There was dead silence. She slitted her eyes open slightly to see Stefan above her, hands still on the jacket, eyes horrified as he stared down at her in shock. Then he glanced over at Damon, who was standing right next to him, an identical look on his face.

Stefan shook his head and took a deep breath, eyes back on her. She struggled to open her eyes all the way, but it wasn't going too well.

"Elena, we have to see what's wrong so we can make it better," Stefan said to her in a low, soothing voice, like one would speak to a wounded, cornered animal. Damon took her left hand, holding it in his warm grip, as he too stared at her, almost transfixed, blue eyes wide.

Elena's breath snagged in her chest as she fought to calm down – this was _Stefan_, for God's sake, her boyfriend, he _loved_ her – and _Damon_, who she knew at least cared for her – they wouldn't _hurt_ her, why had she reacted like that?

Ever so slowly, Stefan once again started to lift the leather from her, and this time she didn't fight him. As he absently handed it over to Damon, who tossed it onto the floor like it wasn't even important, she heard him say a few very bad words as he looked down at her. She closed her eyes and turned her head away in embarassment; she was a mess.

"I don't even know where to fucking _start_," she heard Stefan say in a defeated tone of voice. Then she felt his hand on her bruised cheek, gently but insistently turning her face back to them.

"Elena, sweetheart, we're going to take care of this now," he said tenderly, stroking her cheek and hair. "You have to trust us, okay? We're not going to hurt you, baby."

She made some sort of tiny noise, which he must have taken for compliance, because his next words were to Damon.

"I'll do the blood, you close the wounds," she heard him say and then she heard Stefan bite into his own wrist. Then it was in front of her mouth, she could feel it on her lips.

"Come on, Elena, drink, honey," he insisted in a soft voice, and she opened her mouth a little, that familiar copper taste dripping onto her tongue, making her stomach clench, but she didn't close her mouth.

Surprisingly, she felt weight on the bed, and opened her eyes a little to see Damon almost on top of her. Again, almost feeling like she wasn't in control of herself, she made a whimpering noise and tried to get up, to get _away_, but Damon grabbed her arms in a firm yet gentle grip and brought his face closer to hers as Stefan moved his wrist away in shock.

"Elena! I'm not going to hurt you!" he insisted, eyes fixed on hers. "I would never – _Stefan _would never hurt you…" He gave her the gentlest of shakes, like he was trying to calm a hysterical, wounded animal, and she acquiesced, sinking down into the bed, trying hard to relax. He let out a breath and glanced up at his brother, who once again brought his bloody wrist back to her mouth. Obediently, she parted her lips slightly as drops of Stefan's blood landed in her mouth…

…and at the same time Damon moved his head down to her neck, where Frederick had bitten her so cruelly, and she actually felt his warm mouth ghosting over the nasty bloody wound. She could just see his face, and she was surprised to see him vamp out. _Was he going to bite her?_ she thought hysterically, and almost as if he knew she was scared again, his grip tightened again on her upper arms.

"Shhh, Elena, hold still," he said softly against her skin, and then she felt him _lick_ her there, not just once but several times, slowly, so slowly, and it actually felt kind of good, soothing even, his warm wet tongue where it hurt so badly. She relaxed slightly, and his grip loosened on her as he licked again and again.

Stefan took his wrist away for a few minutes to bite into it again – the punctures had begun to close up already – and she saw Damon look up at his brother, face still scarily vamped, eyes stoplight red and fangs sparkling in the lamp light, almost as if he were hesitating to continue with what he was doing. Stefan didn't look terribly happy about it, but he nodded slightly and Damon glanced up at Elena, blue irises startling against all the red, and then his head went down further, above her right breast. Frederick's second bite. She watched as Stefan's wrist came back down to her lips again, and as she accepted more slow drips of his blood, his life, she felt Damon's breath on her skin before he slowly, so slowly, licked her seeping wounds again.

This time it was way different than her neck, and she actually felt her nipples grow hard, weak and damaged as she was, and she prayed nobody noticed, or heard how her heartbeat sped up a little and she breathed just a little faster. _Damon has to notice, even if Stefan doesn't, _she thought wildly, and _why was he doing this? _

Then he was done, carefully lifting himself from her, standing up next to Stefan again, who finally removed his wrist from her mouth and stroked her hair, searching her face. Damon reached over to the table behind him, coming up with a bowl and cloth, handing it over to Stefan, his face going back to normal, fangs disappearing and eyes clearing to white again, but now strangely flat and unreadable.

"You handle the rest," he muttered to Stefan, giving Elena one last burning blue look with those shuttered eyes, before turning and leaving the room, picking up his jacket as he went and closing the door behind him.

"This is just warm water, Elena," Stefan whispered to her, putting the bowl on the night table before he reached over her. Before he could do anything else, however, she found the strength to shake her head, actually succeeding in sitting up a little.

"I – can I take a bath, please, Stefan?" she asked haltingly, aware of how she sounded. "I feel so – I just want to be _clean_, please – "

He looked so sad as his lips pressed together and he nodded, reaching out to touch her face again, which now didn't hurt so much. She glanced down at her bites, shocked to see that they were completely gone, just the tiniest of pink marks where Frederick's teeth had marred her skin. Her gaze flew back up to Stefan in wonder, and he smiled slightly at her.

"That's what Damon was doing…closing the wounds," he explained as he slid his arms underneath her poor body, lifting her up against him and carrying her into the bathroom. "It's something that comes with drinking human blood, like compulsion."

He cradled her against him in one arm while he started up the hot water and shook some of her flowery bath crystals into the tub, sitting back down in the window seat and balancing her on his lap. He tugged her shirt back over her, and she turned her face into his chest and started to cry, halting sobs like a little child, one hand clutching his flannel shirt. He rocked her, rubbing her back, making little shushing sounds as he held her tight against him.

Elena heard a noise but didn't look up as she continued to weep, and felt Stefan shift his head very slightly as he looked over towards the door.

"She's alright," she heard him say, and then she felt a slight breeze. Damon, leaving.

Stefan held her until the tub was almost full of lightly scented pink water, and then very slowly, as if he was afraid she would try to escape his grasp, he pulled her torn and bloody clothing from her abused body, stroking her skin with his warm hands, before he turned and placed her carefully into the bathtub, as if she were made of glass and would break if he wasn't careful.

Elena sighed deeply as the hot water closed over her and she settled into the deep porcelain tub. Stefan hit a button, and jets started bubbling up against her body, turning the water into a whirlpool. She closed her eyes as Stefan touched her hair, stroking it lightly as he bent over her, kissing her forehead.

"I'll go get you something clean to wear," he murmured against her mouth, and she nodded, opening her eyes and looking up at him in gratitude. His green eyes still looked so pained, but he gave her a little smile and turned, leaving the bathroom. Feeling better, but still so tired, she closed her eyes and drifted, trying very hard not to think about the past few hours… she had been so scared, and then hurt, and then that asshole had _touched_ her…and worse…but the water felt so good, and it was so nice to just lay here, letting the water heal her…

Elena must have fallen asleep, because the next she knew, Stefan was lifting her out of the now-cooling water and wrapping her in a soft-sweet-smelling towel, carrying her away to the bed, where he painstakingly dressed her in clean underwear and another of his soft, button-down shirts, blue this time, before tucking her into his deep, soft bed….she felt him lay down next to her, taking her into his arms, and she pillowed her head on his bicep, closing her eyes, feeling safe and warm and cherished, drifting off again in Stefan's protective arms….but again, her mind turned just for a brief second to Damon, and that look on his face when he had lifted himself from her body…


	12. Chapter 12

She was trapped in some sort of nightmare, in which Frederick was on top of her, half-smothering her as his hands roamed over her body, and as she screamed and screamed for him to stop he was baring his teeth at her like an animal, blood-eyed and sharp-fanged, and then he was biting her, biting her, _biting her _–

"Elena! Elena, wake up!"

Hands shaking her, gently at first and then more insistently, fingertips smoothing hair from her brow as she opened her eyes to look at Stefan, whose face was close to hers as he lay next to her in the bed, shaking her awake. He looked so worried…but when he saw that she was awake, he exhaled, eyes searching her face.

"You were screaming," he explained quietly. "You were yelling _stop, stop,_ and pushing me away from you, and I couldn't wake you up."

She didn't know what to say, and her heart was still pounding from before, so she didn't say anything, just stared at him with wide eyes. She felt so – ashamed? Scared? Disgusted? She didn't know.

"I – it was Frederick," she said quietly. "He was on top of me, and - "

Stefan made a noise, taking her in his arms and rolling over so they were facing each other. His eyes were so green, and so deep…her arms came up to wind around him, and he buried his face in her neck for a moment, holding her tight, and then he kissed her neck softly and looked into her eyes again.

"Elena, I'm so sorry this happened to you - I wasn't there for you," he said in a low tone, looking sadder than she had ever seen him. "You've been dragged into this mess because of me…"

"No, Stefan," she replied, hating how he blamed himself for everything that had happened. "It wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault….it's Katherine, and those other vampires – "

"Exactly, Elena!" he said a little louder, sounding exasperated. "That tomb would have never been opened if it hadn't been for me coming here to this town…Katherine wouldn't even know about you if I hadn't wanted to be with you so bad that I didn't think about all the consequences…" He took a deep breath, clutching her even tighter in his strong hands, though not enough to hurt her. "I have brought such – such _horror_ into your life, even more than you already had to deal with."

"But - " she cut in, and he just shook his head, tracing her cheekbone with his fingers.

"I'm not good for you, Elena," he concluded, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Now you sound like that Edward, that _Twilight_ nonsense," she told him and the corner of his mouth quirked up, even when his eyes were still so dark and shadowed.

"Well, I happen to think you're prettier than Bella," he retorted, and kissed her closed lips softly, mouth warm against hers, his hand caught up in her hair, but then his other hand drifted down to her stomach, she really didn't even think he meant to touch her, and suddenly her body stiffened up. Immediately, probably even faster, he pulled away from her, separating their bodies by a good foot. She took a deep breath, trying to slow her pounding heart.

"Stefan, I'm sorry," she said, reaching up to touch his face, but he just looked away.

"Don't say you're sorry, Elena," he replied flatly. "You didn't do anything…too much has been done to you." He wouldn't talk to her anymore, but he did gather her back into his arms so he could hold her as she fell back asleep…even though that didn't happen for a long, long time.

The sun's rays woke her late the next morning, and even before she opened her eyes she knew that Stefan had left the bed already. His side was still a little warm, and she rolled over onto his pillow, not wanting to get up yet. Stefan's blood had healed all her abrasions and – she shuddered – _bitemarks_, but she was still a little sore…down there. And why was she still all weird around Stefan? It wasn't like he would ever, ever hurt her.

Elena peeked down her shirt where she had had a nasty, oozing bite above her breast. Sure enough, it was barely even noticeable now, and didn't hurt at all. Memories of the night before came rushing back…Damon, crouching over her, licking her like a wolf tends to his mate…she blushed furiously, pulling the covers up over her face and letting her breath out explosively. She stayed like that for a few minutes before deciding that staying in bed all day really wasn't going to fix anything, and so she rose from the bed and showered, dressing in the jeans and shirt that Damon had brought from her house yesterday…had that really been _yesterday?_ It seemed like a year ago.

After she dried her hair she went downstairs to the kitchen; she kept some food in the fridge for herself. The enormous boarding house was so silent she could probably have heard a pin drop.

Elena opened the massive refrigerator door, selecting the orange juice and closing the door –

- and there was Damon, standing right on the other side.

She gasped, dropping the carton of juice, and he snatched it out of midair before it could hit the ground and spill. He placed it on the countertop and turned back to her, face unreadable.

"Sorry," he said. She nodded silently, face flushing, looking everywhere but at him. Images from the night before flashed through her brain, one after the other – Damon pulling Frederick from her body, Damon's eyes as he saw her half-naked on the floor, bite marks ugly and bleeding, Damon drawing her ruined jeans together, Damon's tongue tracing those same yucky, oozing wounds as he crouched over her –

Elena suddenly realized Damon was talking to her. Before she could say something totally intellectual and witty – like _What?_ or _Huh?_ – he reached out and grasped her chin, tilting her face up so he could look into her eyes.

"It's okay, Elena," he said softly, staring at her with that uncomfortably direct gaze of his. "You don't have to feel embarrassed about what that scum did, or anything _I_ did."

She couldn't look away, his fingers wouldn't let her. So she said, "I know," trying to look convincing, but Damon's eyes narrowed at her in speculation.

"I was helping you, Elena," he told her, still in that quiet, serious tone so unlike his normal go-to-hell flippancy. "Those wounds were pretty bad, and they needed to be healed immediately."

What to say to that? _You saw that asshole pretty much raping me? Why did I react to you, especially so soon after that horrific incident, yet couldn't bear Stefan touching me? _ She couldn't think of anything really appropriate, so she just nodded again, unable to tear her eyes away from his. He searched her face for a moment longer, and then dropped his hand, exhaling hard, folding his arms and leaning back against the island in the middle of the kitchen as he gave her a speculative look. They stood like that for a moment, and Elena didn't know what to do. Finally, she asked, "Where's Stefan?"

"He's out dining on Wild America," Damon replied sarcastically. _And he's back._ She nodded and said, "I'd like to go home for a little while and check on Jeremy and get a few things."

Damon shrugged. "Fine. I'll chauffer you." He didn't move.

She turned away, walking out of the kitchen and into the great room, where she picked up her bag and her housekeys, and met Damon in the garage, where he was standing next to his black Ferrari. Silently, he opened the passenger door for her to climb in, and the entire time those impossibly blue eyes were burning into her, though his face remained unreadable. He got in and they vroomed down the long driveway, heading into Mystic Falls. She sat in her seat, her eyes wandering over to his strong, black-denim-clad thighs, his pale hand on the shifter…She sighed inwardly. How was she supposed to act now around him? After all that had happened? She didn't know.

Suddenly, while they were still on the deserted tree-lined road that led into town, he downshifted and pulled over to the side of the road. Elena was so surprised that she just sat there, watching him exit the car and come over to her side, where he yanked the car door open and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"Get out."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I just wanted to say thank you for all of the awesome reviews! I actually started writing this story about two weeks ago, and so had some reserve chapters, which is why they're coming at you so fast. I'm really enjoying writing this story, so expect lots more to come - again, thanks again for the lovely comments, they make me smile! (And for those of you who are asking – yes, Stefan knew all along she was raped, Damon told him. This info comes out in a future chapter).**

"What?" Elena asked stupidly, having no idea what the hell was going on. He gave her an exasperated look, reaching in swiftly to unbuckle her seat belt and then tugging her out of her compact little seat until she was standing in front of him, still mystified. All she knew was that they were still at least four miles outside of town…she looked dubiously down the road stretching out in front of them and he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated motion.

"I'm not making you _walk,_ Elena, I'm not _that_ evil," he said irritably, folding his arms. "I wanted to talk to you…the silence was getting so thick in there you could cut it with a knife." He stared down at her and she dropped her gaze, focusing on the beautiful fall leaves scattered on the ground around them, red and orange and yellow and –

"Ignoring me is not going to work," he said in a flat tone, and she steeled herself, looking back up into those ocean-blue eyes…she felt her insides shiver, but wasn't sure why. Embarassment? Shame? Or…something else? Did she even want to know? Wasn't her life complicated enough? What the hell was _wrong_ with her?

"This is ridiculous," he told her, narrowing his gaze at her. "What, are you going to spend the rest of your life avoiding me, Elena? Ignoring me?"

She shrugged half-heartedly. "No, but – "

"But what?" he interrupted, quirking a silky dark eyebrow at her. "But _what, _Elena?"

She actually turned away, trying to open the door to get back inside, but he reached out all too easily and slammed it shut again. Frustrated, she huffed out a breath and tried to get around him, but who was she kidding? He blocked her way, as immovable as a brick wall. Still she felt like her throat was blocked, words unable to escape, and she was starting to panic a little. When he said nothing, just _stood_ there, _waiting,_ suddenly it was all a little too much for her and she exploded.

"In the – in the basement –" She felt those stupid, useless tears well up and spill over onto her cheeks, and her voice stopped right up again. Damon had – had – "You saw _everything_," she whispered, eyes back on the ground now. "How can I look at you, when you saw – " Pictures flashed through her mind, quick as lightning, of exactly what he _had_ seen, and she wanted to throw up or run away or scream, but did none of those things – just stood there in front of him, feeling ripped open and raw.

Damon, to his credit, didn't say anything throughout her entire outburst, and when she stopped talking, continued to say nothing. She was afraid to look up at his face. What would she see there? Revulsion? Pity? So she just went back to looking at those pretty fallen leaves.

Until he started to speak, in a voice she had never heard come from him before.

"Elena, when I saw him on top of you…" His voice thickened and he stopped for a second before continuing on, still in that strained voice. "I wanted to kill him, just for daring to touch you, and then I ripped him off you and saw exactly what he _had_ been doing_ –"_ Now it was his turn to stop talking, and she felt her cheeks heat up.

Then Damon's hands came into view, slowly, as if he was afraid she was going to bolt like a scared animal. He closed them around her upper arms, and she dared to look up. He had an unfamilar look on his face, and it took her a moment to place it – it was _guilt_.

"I wanted to compel you," he said in a harsh whisper, eyes searching her face. "I wanted to make you forget what he did to you, and then what _we_ had to do to you – every time we touched you, you got this scared look on your face, and you tensed up like we were going to hurt you, Elena – and I wanted to make that pain go away for you – but more than that, _I wanted to make you forget how I failed you."_

Her mouth dropped open and she felt her eyes go wide, wide, as she processed everything he had just said in her mind. He turned away from her then, presenting his back to her as if he needed a minute to get himself together- but wait, this was _Damon,_ who didn't care about anything or anyone but himself –

Before she knew what she was doing, she was reaching out to him, she was the one who was grabbing his arm and turning him back around, and he was letting her, although not too easily. And those eyes – that face – screamed remorse. This from the self-proclaimed narcissist. What had she called him? A self-serving psychopath?

She was a fool.

"Damon – " she choked out, and then she was in his strong arms, being crushed against his hard chest, as he held on to her like he was drowning and she was his only hope for survival. She felt her feet clear the ground by inches as he buried his face in her swirling hair, his hands clutching her back, her hair, her shirt –

- her heart.

She took a deep breath, completely unsure as to what to do or say, so she just kept her mouth shut and treasured the moment – being surrounded by Damon, cherished, held – _loved?_

_Don't be stupid, Elena,_ a voice chided in her head, even as she was taking pleasure in Damon's arms – _he doesn't love you, he loves Katherine, even if she's a murdering heartless bitch. Besides, why are you even _thinking_ about that? You love _Stefan_, remember, your _boyfriend?

All these thoughts went through Elena's brain in about a millisecond, before she firmly told her mind to _shut up_ and went back to just being in Damon's arms. As for Damon, he wasn't saying anything, just holding her, his face in her hair, his mouth – her heart skipped a beat when she realized that his mouth was precisely at the spot where Frederick had so cruelly bitten her and Damon had so tenderly healed. Damon seemed to notice at the same time Elena did, and she felt his lips kiss her there, lingering, lingering…she closed her eyes, whether in pleasure or guilt she did not know, and then he lifted his warm mouth from the delicate site and then that was even worse, because his mouth was now inches away from _her_ mouth, and God help her, she didn't know _what_ she wanted to happen –

- and then he carefully put her back down, blue eyes burning through her.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he said in a tense voice. Then he laughed shortly, though it wasn't a happy laugh. "Christ, that's all I seem to say lately. Next thing you know, I'll be buying sappy Hallmark cards."

Finally, she found her voice. "It's okay, Damon." _Why did she sound like that? Why was her voice coming out all breathy? _ She cleared her throat forcefully, taking a breath. Strangely, she felt kind of better, not so shameful and jumpy…

Hold on. _What_ had he said to her? Compelling her? Failing her?

Elena shook her head, trying to clear it. "Damon, I – " _Lord, what to say? The truth, maybe? _she thought, as she steeled herself and looked up at him. "I wish you hadn't seen that," she whispered. "I'm so grateful that you stopped it – it'll probably take me awhile to really get over it – but I wish you hadn't _seen."_

So many emotions played on his face then – pity, rage, horror - and then it went blank and smooth, typical Damon, _God forbid he displays a hint of any humanity for too long,_ and they just stared at each other for a long moment before he finally exhaled forcefully, looked away, and muttered for her to get back in the car, opening the door for her. Then they were once again on their way into town, and once again nobody was saying anything. Elena didn't really know what else to say, after all that, and Damon seemed lost in thought as he drove and shifted and stared straight ahead at the road…it felt different now, like he didn't want to talk to her at all, but why? Again, she had no idea.

Thankfully, within ten minutes they were smoothly pulling up in her driveway, and Damon had barely turned off the car before she was getting out and hurrying up to her front door, keying it and entering. She didn't bother closing the door; Damon was probably just a few minutes behind her. She knew Jenna wasn't home, because her little Mini Cooper wasn't anywhere to be seen, so that just left Jeremy, who was hopefully home. He hadn't been outside the house since the drive home from the hospital, so it was a safe bet he was somewhere inside.

As she hiked up the stairs, she could have sworn she heard something coming from Jeremy's room. She stopped dead, wondering if she had really heard – _giggling?_

And then her brother's voice – "Merry, cut it out!"


	14. Chapter 14

_Merry? _Who was this Merry, and what the hell was going on?

In total disbelief, she didn't remember walking over to Jeremy's door, but suddenly she felt a light breeze and Damon, ever her protector, was in front of her, giving her a hard look before he turned the door knob and opened the door without even knocking to warn the room's occupants.

Who turned out to be indeed, Jeremy and a pretty girl, sitting on the floor and playing a video game, fingers flying over the controls. Elena peered around Damon, totally shocked. Just then, Jeremy glanced up and noticed them standing motionless in the doorway. He grinned at them, hitting the button that turned the game off and bouncing to his feet, pulling the girl up with him in the process. Elena barely had time to register that the girl was a pretty little blonde with fog-grey eyes before Jeremy spoke.

"Oh, hey, guys…this is Meredith," Jeremy said, gesturing to the girl next to him. Meredith smiled at Damon and Elena. "We met at the Grill a couple of weeks ago, and when I went there today, there she was…now here we are."

Elena couldn't believe the transformation in her brother…before Founder's Day, he had pretty much hated Elena's guts, and then after Anna was staked, he was pissed-off and depressed…and now he looked almost like his old, non-mad at the world self again. She creeped out from behind Damon and smiled back at the friendly-looking girl.

"Hi, I'm Elena, Jeremy's sister," she said, and the girl nodded at her, her eyes flickering over to Damon as if she couldn't help herself. Elena groaned inwardly. Another victim of Damon's otherworldly looks….

"Are you Elena's boyfriend?" she asked innocently, and Jeremy rolled his eyes, grabbing Meredith's hand again.

"She wishes. Come on, let's go get something to eat," he told her, and they walked past Elena and Damon and clattered down the stairs and out the door before Elena could say anything. _She wishes? What the hell was that about?_

Damon turned to Elena in the suddenly empty bedroom, raising his eyebrows at her. "Well, well…you wish I was your boyfriend?" He leered at her. "What _else_ does that rascal know?"

Elena shook her head at him, struggling to understand just what the hell was going on. "Jeremy's never mentioned that girl…who was she?"

"Jeremy also hasn't been talking to you for the past two weeks," Damon scoffed. "The kid's been through a lot lately, and he was acting like a real asshole…at least the girl makes him a little easier to be around."

Elena sighed. "It's just kind of weird, don't you think?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "I try not to think about your brother, thank you very much." He suddenly glanced over at the doorway, on alert. Before Elena could even turn around fully, Stefan was filling the doorway, a confused look on his face.

"I just passed Jeremy and some girl down the street - they were holding hands and laughing," he said in a puzzled tone, crossing the room to stand in front of Elena. She shrugged.

"They just left here…her name is Meredith, and they apparently met at the Grill," she explained to him. He nodded, the look on his face becoming more introspective.

"I thought she looked familiar, but I couldn't place her," he said. Damon looked from his brother to Elena, his gaze lingering on her for a brief second before he turned and walked away from them, heading for the door.

"It's your shift, brother," he said over his shoulder. "See you around, ladies." And then he was gone, leaving as silently as Stefan had arrived. Stefan smiled tenderly at Elena, taking her in his arms.

"How are you?" he asked in a low tone, and Elena was surprised to realize that, aside from her worry about her brother, she felt – okay. She hadn't thought about what had happened to her last night in at least the past hour or so. And she hadn't done that weird tensing up thing when Damon had touched her earlier. _Damon touching her…_ She remembered how he desperately he had held her to him, how he had looked at her outside the car…_I wanted to make you forget how I failed you…_

"I'm fine," she said now to Stefan, looking up into his green, green eyes that were searching hers. "Well, I don't want to think about it at all ever again, but I think I'm going to be okay."

"Good, because I was worried about you all morning," he replied, and she rested her cheek against his chest for a moment before they parted and she went to her room to unpack and repack in case she stayed over the boarding house again, Stefan trailing behind her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Later that day, Jenna made Sunday dinner – pot roast, vegetables, biscuits, the works – and everyone was invited, including Jeremy's new friend, Merry, which Elena didn't know until she and Stefan came downstairs to see Merry and Jeremy setting the table.

"Stefan, this is Merry," Jeremy said quickly, waving his hand at the petite blonde girl, who smiled over at them, dishes and forks in hand. "Hi!" she greeted Stefan, all perky and cheerful. Stefan smiled over at her, squeezing Elena's hand surreptitiously.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, and before they could sit down, the doorbell rang. Elena detached from Stefan to answer the door, though he was right behind her. In a way, it made her feel safe, but also kind of smothered at the same time. _I have to talk to him about that,_ she thought to herself as she opened the door. Damon stood on the other side, a bottle of wine in hand and that familiar smirk on his face.

"Guess who's coming to dinner," he quipped before stepping inside. Elena closed the door behind him, following him into the dining room, where he presented the wine to Jenna. She smiled up at him, and Elena sighed inwardly. _Another victim. _

The doorbell rang again, and Jenna turned away from Damon, a real smile lighting up her face. "I'll get it!" she called out, ditching her apron and all but floating over to the door.

"It's probably Mr. Saltzman, my history teacher and kind of Jenna's boyfriend," Jeremy told Merry. Damon placed a hand over his heart, gazing rapturously up at the ceiling.

"Oh, Alaric! The minutes have been like _hours," _he intoned dreamily, and Stefan snorted, pulling out Elena's chair for her to sit in.

"I'm sure he feels the same way," he replied, and Damon focused on his brother, giving him a dirty look as he poured wine.

"I meant for _Jenna,"_ he informed Stefan haughtily. Elena raised her eyebrows, passing the mashed potatoes over to her brother, who was busy conversing with Merry, of course.

"I'm sure you did," she said, and Damon winked at her as Alaric and Jenna entered the room. They started the noisy business of eating, everyone complimenting Jenna on the lavish meal, who pinked up nicely, but Alaric managed during a lull in conversation to smile over at Merry.

"So are you new to Mystic Falls, Meredith? I haven't seen you at school," he said, and Merry nodded as she poked at her pot roast with her fork.

"We just moved here last month, and my mother's been home-schooling me," she replied, looking at Alaric with those grey eyes. "I'm trying to convince her to let me enroll in real school, but we'll see."

"And you met Jeremy at the Grill?" Jenna questioned, sipping her wine. Jeremy smiled a real smile.

"Yeah, I got tired of staying in my room all day and actually left the house last week to get something to eat, and there she was," he said, shooting Merry a look that clearly showed his feelings for her. They finished the meal in relative good spirits, but Elena couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't _right_…but she couldn't put her finger on it…

"Is it because it's been so soon since Anna?" she asked Stefan later that night, up in her room. She had decided to stay home tonight, since she did have school tomorrow and she wanted to go, despite Stefan's protests that she stay home and rest. _I can't mope around forever, I need to move on,_ she had told him. "Jenna seems to think that girl's like some sort of miracle for Jer," she said now. He shrugged, playing with a lock of her hair as they lay sprawled on her bed.

"Maybe he just wants to be happy again, Elena," he said softly. "I mean, has he really been truly happy since your parents died?"

"No, he hasn't," Elena replied, resting her head on Stefan's arm. "But it worries me that he can forget Anna so easily – I mean, he drank her blood and tried to kill himself not too long ago." She looked up at him. "I couldn't forget _you_ that easily, Stefan."

Stefan smiled faintly as he traced her cheekbone with his fingertips, his green, green eyes searching hers. "I would _never _forget you, Elena."

He lowered his mouth to hers, and they kissed, warm and deep and long, and as their lips met again and again Elena felt no fear, no rising panic, only love…all she wanted to do was replace the bad old memories with loving new memories….

…but when he turned her onto her back and rose above her, Elena's eyes flew open. Stefan stopped dead, freezing over her, a look of concern on his face.

"I _knew_ it was too soon to be doing this," he breathed. She shook her head, telling herself not to be so stupid, _it's Stefan!_ She took a deep breath and smiled at him.

"It's okay," she told him, her hands running up his arms. He shook his head, starting to move off her, but she tightened her grip on his arms and he stopped.

"No, Stefan, I have to do this – I _want _to do this," she insisted, and he still looked very unsure, but he didn't leave. She stretched up, her lips touching his again, and they kissed for awhile, Stefan not moving an inch. Finally her fingers tugged at his shirt, and he reared back on his knees, stripping his henley over his head before coming back down to her, muscles shadowed in the dim lighting.

"Let me show you how much I love you," he said very softly to her. She smiled up at him as she reached down, grasping the hem of her shirt to lift it up over her head and off, exposing her dark blue bra to him. She couldn't help peeking down at herself – even those faint pink marks were gone, leaving behind only smooth, unbroken skin. A quick, quick video clip of Frederick on top of her, face scarily vamped out and eyes burning red, fangs sinking deep into the skin above her chest, flashed through her mind, but just as quickly she put it right back out again, concentrating on Stefan's beloved face. To distract herself even further, her fingers trailed over his warm, hard chest down…

…but then Stefan started kissing his way down her neck and over her collarbone and she freaked out, breaking their kiss and scooting back up against her headboard, a scream locked behind her teeth, eyes wide. At the same time, it was like she was looking down at herself, wondering _what the fuck are you doing, Elena?_ But it was like she couldn't stop.

Stefan still knelt on her bed, hands out like he was showing her that he wasn't going to touch her, eyes dark with sorrow, speaking in a soothing voice. "Elena, sweetheart, I won't hurt you. I won't touch you. Shhh, Elena, it's okay."

Slowly, he inched forward toward her, as she just huddled there, scrunched up till she could go no further, tracking his every movement. He picked up her shirt in his hand and slowly, carefully slipped it over her head, helping her arms through the holes as if she were some big life-sized doll. Only when she was fully clothed again did he, again at glacial speed, take her into his arms. By then she was crying, not hysterically or copiously, but tears kept sliding down her cheeks in a steady stream as she laid her head against his naked chest and felt his hand in her hair, holding her to him as he murmured nonsense words to her over and over.

Finally she cried herself out and said in a small voice, "Stefan, I'm sorry." She had led him on, she thought. She had wanted to be close to him, and _she herself_ had tried to take off his shirt…_what was wrong with her?_ His arms merely tightened around her.

"Elena, it's alright…I didn't think we should have done anything anyway," he said softly, raising his head to look into her eyes. "This will take some time, so that's what we'll give it. No more fooling around."

"Damon said he wanted to…compel me so I would forget," she confided haltingly and he stiffened, eyes flaring slightly as his arms tightened on her, then loosened again.

"He told you that?" he asked, then rolled his eyes. "Of course he would, he's Damon. Elena," he said, looking serious, "we discussed that but decided it wouldn't be fair to you, especially after what happened with Jeremy finding out…but if you want to…."

"No, I don't want that," she said quickly. "I just need to – to get over this. And I will." _Why don't I sound more believable? _she thought to herself.

They stayed like that for awhile, and then despite her racing thoughts Elena felt her eyes grow heavy. She sat up, not quite meeting Stefan's eyes.

"I just want to go to bed," she explained, fiddling with her pillowcase, and he nodded, rising from the bed and standing in front of her.

"I'll be here tonight," he said in an unreadable tone of voice. "Don't worry."

Elena nodded as she got up herself, grabbing a pajama tank top and pair of shorts and heading to the bathroom to perform her nightly cleaning rituals. When she returned Stefan was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't mean he wasn't around outside. She turned back the covers, sliding into bed and pulling them up almost over her head. All she wanted to do was sleep…and forget all about the day's events.


	16. Chapter 16

Elena hadn't had a very restful night; she had tossed and turned and lay staring at the darkened ceiling for what seemed like three years. Stefan had never shown back up in her room, as he usually did, so she had been all alone. Finally around three in the morning she fell into a fitful sleep, not really waking up until five minutes before her alarm was supposed to go off at six-thirty. As she reluctantly reached over to turn off her alarm clock before it started blaring away she caught something out of the corner of her eye.

Damon.

He was sitting in her old threadbare easy chair by the window, staring over at her with those cerulean eyes of his. She gasped, not expecting him to be there, and he widened his eyes at her, a playful smile on his face.

"I usually get that reaction from _all_ the ladies," he teased, and she let out her breath, sitting up, careful to cover herself with the blankets. _Too late for that, don't you think, Elena?_ a gleefully sarcastic voice reminded her inside her head. _He's pretty much seen it all!_

"Where's Stefan?" she asked, ignoring the wicked little voice, and he shrugged as he elegantly crossed his legs.

"I don't know…when I arrived he muttered something about talking to you later and then escaped into the night," he explained with a wicked grin, and Elena nodded, glancing over at her clock.

"I need to get up," she told him, and his eyebrow raised as he gave her an incredulous look.

"Uh-_huh…"_ he replied, drawing the last syllable out as if she were brain-damaged, and she shook her head.

"No, I mean…can you turn around or leave or something?" she asked him, hating herself, and this time both eyebrows shot up as he stared at her.

"Aren't you wearing your entirely too non-revealing pajamas?" he asked in a puzzled tone, and she felt her heart rate increase.

"Please," she begged, looking away. There was silence for a moment, and she could almost _hear_ the wheels turning in Damon's head. Finally, he spoke.

"Alright, princess," he said, making a big production of turning his body to gaze out the window. She threw off the covers, making a dash for the bathroom, only slowing down to grab a pair of leggings and a shirt that were waiting to be put away on her dresser. As she shut the bathroom door, she huffed out a breath, leaning against the door for a brief moment. _Put the cuckoo back in the clock, Elena,_ she told herself firmly. Now if only she could listen…

She hastily showered and dressed, returning to her room to find…Damon, still sitting in her chair. She frowned to herself – usually Stefan was back by this time so they could drive to school together. Maybe he had told Damon to stay, because Elena's car was wrecked? She voiced this to Damon, who shrugged and said, "Don't know, babe. Haven't spoken to him since he left. Need a ride to school? I'll go fetch your chariot." All with that gaze, which seemed to be scrutinizing her. _What was going on in his head?_ She looked away.

"Yes," she replied. "I'll meet you outside in a little while." And she turned and hurried down the hallway to the stairwell, feeling those eyes burning a hole in her back.

After a hasty cereal breakfast with Jeremy, who actually seemed inclined to talk to her like he didn't wish a Mack truck would run her down in the street – _could this also be attributed to the mysterious Merry?_ she thought – and after digging her old cell out of the hallway table, she walked outside into the sunshine to see Damon already behind the wheel of his Camaro. She opened the door and got inside, and without a word he turned onto the street, destination: Mystic Falls High.

_Where is Stefan?_ she kept thinking, but before she could really get lost in her own head, Damon switched on the stereo and loud heavy metal came blaring out of the speakers. She jumped in her seat, giving him a dirty look, and he shrugged and turned the music down to a dull roar, glancing over at her.

"Well, _you_ weren't saying anything," he drawled sarcastically, and she rolled her eyes in frustration.

"Why do I have to say something all the time, Damon?" she retorted. "Why can't I just fucking sit here quietly if I want to?" _Did I just say "fuck" to Damon? Uh-oh_, she thought, but didn't apologize. As she looked over at him out of the corner of her eye, grateful for her curtain of dark brown hair, again his eyebrows raised in wonder.

"Okay, spill it," he replied, turning into the parking lot at school, which was slowly filling up with cars, shutting off the engine and turning to face her. "Are you nervous about going back to school today? Is _that_ it, princess? Don't worry, I'll be skulking around the premesis, doing my best stalker imitation, although I don't think anybody would try anything here, anyway, too public." He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning forward very slightly. "And by the way, what was the deal this morning, hmmm? It wasn't like you were wearing black see-through lingerie."

_Good idea, Elena,_ spill!_ Why don't you tell him about how you went psycho last night and, oh yeah! You're a big tease whose boyfriend can't touch her,_ shot through her mind. _Then you can finish it up with, Why isn't Stefan here like he usually is on school mornings? Did I scare him away after last night? Sure! Just tell him! See what he says!_

The whole inner conversation must have shown on her face, because Damon's face softened slightly as she just sat there, wondering what the hell to do. "Elena?" he asked in a softer tone, and she shook her head violently, grabbing the strap of her schoolbag and opening the door.

"Thanks for the ride, I'll see you later," she said all in a rush, and bolted from the car, not quite running, but damn close. Up ahead, she spotted Bonnie standing in the main entryway, and breathed a sigh of relief as she neared her best friend, who smiled at her.

"Hey, Elena, how are you? I wanted to come over to see you, but Stefan said to give you some time – hey, where is he, anyway? Don't you guys come to school together?" Bonnie inquired as they walked into school. Elena risked a quick look back over her shoulder at the parking lot. No Camaro. Damon had left. She turned back to Bonnie, who was now looking a little concerned as they progressed further down the hallway.

"I don't know, Bonnie," she said truthfully as they slowed to a stop by Elena's locker. "I really don't know…" They walked together to math class, and before the first period was over Elena had spilled the whole sordid tale to Bonnie through furtive text messages and written notes. Bonnie hugged her tight before they left the room, and as they exited, Elena looked up and down the busy corridor for Stefan, but there was no sign of him. She turned back to her friend as they wandered down to their English class, who had been talking since they exited the classroom, but Elena hadn't paid attention, _where's Stefan? _playing over and over again in her mind like a scratched CD.

"…you've suffered a traumatic episode, Elena, and you need to come to terms with that," Bonnie was lecturing when Elena tuned back in. "Maybe you could – I don't know, talk to someone?"

_That_ got Elena's attention. "Bonnie, who the hell am I going to talk to about this?" she hissed in a whisper as they sat down in their classroom, chattering teenagers all around them. "I _am _talking to someone – _you."_

Bonnie sighed, looking at her friend with sympathy evident on her pretty face. "I'm sorry, Elena, I just don't know what to tell you. I just think you need to relax and take some time to get over it."

Elena sighed. "I'm trying, Bonnie - there's nothing else I can do." Class began – and Elena glanced over at the empty desk next to her.

Stefan's desk.


	17. Chapter 17

Somehow, Elena made it through the day. Lunch was the easiest, with Caroline chattering away like a magpie about clothes and makeup and who was dating whom, and Matt and Tyler trading jockish stories. She called Stefan's phone four times, but it always went straight to voicemail as if he had turned his phone off, and he never responded to her texts.

The last class of the day, history with Mr. Saltzman, was the hardest, especially when he pulled her aside before class began – "Ooohhh, you're in trouuuubllllleeeee!" the class hooted as they went out into the hallway – and asked in a kindly, serious tone if she was okay. It reminded her of her father, even though Mr. Saltzman was too young to fill that role. Elena almost burst into tears, all keyed up by the end of the day over Stefan's absence, but she held it in and told him she was fine, ignoring the skeptical look he gave her. But he let her go back into class, though he kept _looking_ at her during his lecture on the escalation of the Vietnam War. Every time he did, all she could think of was that he had seen her in Damon's arms in that house of horrors, broken and bloody…she tried to avoid eye contact, doodling in the margins of her notebook in between taking notes.

When the final bell rang, she almost ran for the door, poor Bonnie right behind her, feeling the weight of Mr. Saltzman's gaze on her until she hit the hallway. They met up with Matt and Caroline again, who was full of gossip that she was happy to share with them as they made their way to the main entrance and the parking lot. _The parking lot._ Would Stefan be there, standing by the trees adjoining the lot, smiling as she approached? She held her breath as they crossed over the threshold -

But there was no Stefan awaiting her arrival. There was, however, Damon, leaning up against the Camaro, arms folded as he locked eyes with her. She let out her breath slowly, disappointment and worry and anxiety forming a hard knot in her stomach. Elena glanced surreptitiously over at her friends, whose faces all had such different expressions – Matt's curiosity, Bonnie's disappointment (like Elena's) and suspicion, and Caroline's outright dislike.

"Hey, Elena, I can give you a ride home," Bonnie said to Elena as they neared Damon, but Damon shook his head as he watched them.

"Can't," he replied for Elena, standing up straight and opening the passenger door. He looked back over at Elena, and something in his shuttered expression sent a jolt of fear down her spine. As she quickly reached for her phone again, Matt said innocently, "Hey, where's Stefan?" and she almost dropped it as she speed-dialed Stefan's phone _again,_ barely listening to Damon's reply.

Right to voicemail.

Elena looked over at her friends. "I'll see you guys later," she told them, and Matt and Caroline smiled at her before turning away in Matt's truck's direction. Bonnie lingered, shooting Damon a look full of distrust before saying to Elena, "Call me soon, okay? Maybe you can come to my house later."

"Okay," Elena replied before turning to Damon, who gestured grandly for her to get in the car…still, that look on his face wasn't making her feel any better. Bonnie watched her as she climbed into the car, slinging her schoolbag into the miniscule backseat. Damon rounded the car to get into the driver's side, and they roared away, Elena waving to Bonnie reassuringly. Bonnie still had a disapproving look on her face.

Then she turned to Damon.

"Where's Stefan? I've been calling him all day, and he's not picking up the phone," she said, her words tumbling over each other in her rush to get them out. Damon shrugged lightly, steering the car, fiddling with the radio controls, staring out the windshield at the road –

– concentrating on everything but her, it seemed.

_Something's wrong, _Elena thought to herself. Out loud, she said, "Oh, my God, did something happen to Stefan?"

Damon merely shook his head, apparently needing all his mental focus to execute a simple turn as they drove out of Mystic Falls and toward the boarding house. Elena's heart skipped a beat. _Had Frederick - ? Had Katherine - ?_ She reached out and grabbed his arm.

"_Da_mon!"she yelped. _"Answer me!"_

He glanced over at her, then at her hand still on his arm. "Aren't you the _least_ bit scared of me? You know, dangerous vampire and all?" he quipped, but his heart didn't really seem that into it. She felt her eyes grow wide with anxiety and fear.

"Oh, God, is it bad?" she breathed. Then she looked out the window; they were at the boarding house. Before Damon could even pull into the garage, as the car was slowly coming to a stop, she opened the door, and thank God for vampiric reflexes, because Damon braked hard quickly so Elena didn't kill herself getting out. She felt just the brush of his hand on the back of her jacket – he had tried to grab her – as she flew inside, calling out, "Stefan? _Stefan?" _

She heard a noise behind her and whirled around hopefully, but it was just Damon, who had closed the door behind her and was now just _standing_ there watching her yell for his brother. The look on his face stopped her dead in her tracks. She knew what he was going to say even before the words escaped his lips.

"Elena, he's gone."


	18. Chapter 18

All she could do was stare at Damon like he had just told her the world would end that day, not really comprehending his words…he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I didn't want to tell you in the car – when he didn't show up at all today, I came here looking for him…some of his things were gone and I found this note for you in his room, on his bed." He reached into his leather jacket, drawing out a white envelope and holding it out to her. Elena just looked at it like it would burn her skin if she touched it.

"I didn't read it, if that's what you're thinking," Damon said in a defensive tone, but she still didn't raise her hand to take it from him. He exhaled noisily, grasping her shoulder in his other hand and steering her to the nearest sofa, sitting her down upon it and placing the envelope in her lap. He stood in front of her, hands in his pockets, as she slowly opened it, feeling numb inside.

_My love,_ she read to herself,

_I cannot in good conscience stay here in Mystic Falls and try to build a life with you, a life we both know is built on unholy ground. I have been thinking about leaving for a while now, and I would convince myself that it was indeed time to go, but then I would look into your eyes, or kiss your lips, and tell myself, just a little longer…_

_That ended the night you were raped and brutalized, even though you are trying to put on a brave face and tell me and everybody else how 'fine' you are. Damon told me what happened to you in that house, how he saw that scum hurting you, and Elena, I knew you were in trouble, I could _hear _you screaming from outside the house, and I couldn't get in to help you…I have never felt so useless, so much a _vampire _as I did then. Because if I were human, I could have walked right into that house, killed everyone there and taken you out before anything happened. Instead, Alaric had to gain entrance into the house before you could be saved. When we brought you back to the house and I saw the physical evidence of what had transpired, and later witnessed the mental anguish you suffered – it was horrible, Elena. I couldn't even touch you without hurting you. I couldn't even _love_ you without hurting you. No more._

_I am leaving so I can't cause you any more pain, so that these terrible things taking place because I came back to Mystic Falls won't happen anymore. Too much has happened already, and it needs to end. You deserve a normal, happy, human life with a normal human man, and that is the one thing I can't give you._

_Please, my love, don't try to find me. Give yourself some time to heal, to come to terms with what happened to you. I know that you have friends, family, who love you and will help you through the tough times ahead. I've told Damon to keep an eye on you, but I'm hoping that by leaving, others will focus on me and not on you. _

_I will love you _forever,_ Elena, and every day without you will be agony, but I can't be selfish anymore._

_Stefan _

She stared at the expensive, heavy stationary a long time, hardly breathing, her mind a blank, her heart pounding in her ears. Damon reached down and touched the paper, gently tugging it out of her fingers. He sat down next to her and read Stefan's words, and when he was finished his eyes locked on her, brow furrowed. She gave no sign that she even knew he was there, or that he had read her letter. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"I don't believe this," Elena whispered, suddenly standing up and pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, eyes blazing and hair streaming out behind her like a silky brown banner.

"How could he _do_ this? How could he just leave without _saying_ anything to me?" she cried, not even really speaking to Damon, who just watched her warily from the couch. "He's supposed to 'love me forever' – what bullshit! _If he loved me, he wouldn't leave!"_

The last she yelled right at Damon, who to his credit didn't even blink, or say anything; he just sat there and watched her have a world-class meltdown right in the great room of his house, and when she finally began to cry, harsh racking sobs, clutching her chest as she _felt_ her heart break and sinking to her knees when they gave out on her, only then did he stand and scoop her up, depositing her back on the couch.

"If h-he loved m-me, he wouldn't _l-leave,"_ she kept repeating through her tears, as Damon, clearly not knowing what else to do, held her in his arms, even rocking her back and forth. She rested her cheek against his cool, leather shoulder and just kept saying those words as if they would bring Stefan back, as if he would just walk into the room and smile at her again…but of course, he didn't.

It was just her and Damon, grieving on the couch.


	19. Chapter 19

Much, much later, after Elena had exhausted her tears, Damon asked her if she wanted to go upstairs and lay down, but she refused to step one foot into Stefan's room, too late realizing that statement left her wide-open for all sorts of dirty innuendoes that she sleep on _Damon's _bed, but surprisingly he had restrained himself. Elena had simply lay down right there on the soft old sofa, and before she could even close her eyes Damon had taken down the blanket that had been cast over the sofa's back and was tucking it over her, avoiding all eye contact as he did so.

"Your humanity's showing," Elena warned him in a tired, flat voice, and Damon smirked halfheartedly as he smoothed the blanket over her, not meeting her eyes.

"I have to watch that, don't I – big bad vampire reputation to uphold," he replied, and then straightened and left the room. Elena closed her eyes, which felt scratchy and sore, and after a little while fell asleep, enervated by the day's events.

Some time later, she awoke, but hadn't even opened her eyes yet before she heard Damon's voice coming from somewhere…as she slowly opened her eyes, which didn't really feel any better, she could see from her prone position on the sofa that Damon was standing way across the great room, looking out a window and furiously half-whispering into his cell phone.

"…she cried her fucking eyes out, do you think that sounds 'okay,' you world-class moron?" he said heatedly. "I always knew you didn't deserve her, and then when things get rough, you fucking _leave?_ Not a good move, Stefan, not classy at all. Next thing, you'll be sparkling in the fucking sunlight."

_Stefan?_ Had she heard that correctly, still half-asleep as she was?

Damon paused for a moment as he listened to whatever was being said, and then continued, "Of course I know what happened, dickhead, I was there, remember? I was the one who found her! It was no fucking picnic, let me tell you, and then I had to take care of those bitemarks – do you think that was _easy_ for me to do? _You,_ of all people, know how her blood tastes…well, that's what it's all about – doing what needs to be done, not walking out!"

Another pause in the conversation as Damon shut up and listened to whatever Stefan was telling him, and then he erupted. "Really? Really? Well, of _course_ she would react like that - you can't try to sleep with the poor girl the day after she was raped! Jesus, maybe you should have blamed her, too, which I hope you didn't do, at the very least. How are we _related?_ How?"

_Ouch, _Elena thought as she tried to figure out what to do – get up and demand that Damon hand over the phone, or just lay quietly so Damon would continue to think she was asleep and maybe find out where Stefan was? Before she could make a decision, Damon continued, lowering his voice slightly.

"No, dickhead, I'm not happy because I got what I wanted! _She's not Katherine!_ You know what, don't call me again with this fucking _nonsense,_ asshole."

Damon yanked the phone away from his ear, forcefully pushing the 'end' button and slamming it onto a nearby table, then snatching it up and slamming it down _again._ As he turned in her direction, she quickly closed her eyes again, not ready to face him, those three words running through her head…_she's not Katherine_…_ she's not Katherine…_she's not fucking Katherine…_Elena, you forgot again, didn't you? _she scolded herself. _You're the replacement for her, you will always be just a copy of the original and best, and never valued for yourself by either one of them. Didn't your own freaking birth mother tell you that? _Everybody knows you're not Katherine…_._

As Elena felt the pitiful little fragment that was left of her heart disintegrate, she tried hard not to let anything out; just a little whimpering noise escaped her as turned over, facing the couch. She heard Damon's steps hesistate and then come closer to her, finally stopping in front of her, but she pretended to still be sleeping. He stood above her for long, long moments…she heard him sigh and then she felt him pulling the blanket up around her shoulders, those same fingers slowly tracing her hairline, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her left ear, and then he moved away, walking out of the great room toward the kitchen –

- and only then did she start to cry.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note: This chapter took a long time; it was hard for me to write from Damon's point of view for some reason. Please forgive the screwing with past events that occurs (for example, Frederick should already be dead if I'm going with the **_**Let the Right One In**_** line).**

Damon violently hung up on his asshole brother, almost shoving his phone right through one of the decorative tables that littered the dump. How _dare_ Stefan, that waste, insinuate that Damon should be grateful that he had left, breaking Elena's heart in the process? Because saying that meant that Elena was Katherine all over again, and that was so far from the truth it was ridiculous.

That useless bitch Isobel certainly had hit that nail on the head - after she had given him away, of course, thanks a _lot_ _– Elena was not Katherine. _But while she had meant that as an insult to get under Elena's skin, it was really a great compliment. While Katherine was a stone-cold bitch, who had toyed with both him and his brother like they were her personal toys, letting them think she was dead, then trapped under that church like a mole while all the time she had been out and about in the world, Elena was a beautiful person inside and out. And she had proven, time and again, her endless loyalty, something that Katherine had known nothing about.

As Damon stared out the window, he remembered the bad old days, when he had still so foolishly believed Katherine was trapped in the tomb, and Stefan hadn't wanted her to be saved. After the whole grimoire debacle, Elena had come to him at the boarding house, taken off her necklace, and demanded he compel her to see if she had been lying. Her brown eyes had been positively fiery as she had stood there, that stubborn look on her face, and he could tell she was a little afraid of him, too, but as he came closer to her she hadn't budged an inch…she had gone into the tomb with him after that, no hesitation apparent, though she had probably been afraid of all the desiccated vampires. God, he still didn't like to think about what an utter _fool_ he had been, all the things he had done to get into that tomb, only to find that Katherine, that sly little fox, hadn't even been trapped inside…but what he _did _think about now was the fact that after they had all come back out, Elena had wrapped her arms around him, _"I'm sorry," _she had told him, and though he was in despair, a small, small fraction of him had marveled at her sympathetic behavior.

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as his mind flashed to another Elena scene – in the history teacher's classroom, when Alaric had spread before them his collection of vervain darts and stakes, everything but snips and snails and puppy-dog tails, and she had been so determined to get in that house to rescue his brother. That same fire had been in her eyes – because of her love for Stefan. She hadn't walked away from him that time, or the time when he had attacked that chick at the ball, either. Damon winced slightly as he remembered that he had been waiting just down the hall, and had heard Stefan shouting at her, Elena's refusal to leave, and then the sound of her being slammed against the armoire – it had taken a hell of a lot not to go in there – but still, she had stayed by Stefan's side, wanting to help him, wanting to _sit outside his cell,_ for Christ's sake. All because she loved him. That girl would probably walk through _fire_ for his stupid brother.

And Stefan, that pussy, had turned his back on that.

Damon started to head in the direction of the staircase when he heard Elena make some small sound on the couch. He stopped in his tracks, looking over at her scrunched-up form, mostly hidden by the throw he had covered her with, but she was quiet again. Before he really knew what he was doing, he had turned and was walking over to her, not even really sure why. _Then again,_ he thought to himself, _I've been doing a lot of things lately without really knowing why…_

As Damon reached Elena's prone form, he saw that she merely had turned onto her side and was still asleep. He gazed down at her, a million thoughts running through his mind…he flashed back to the nightmare he had encountered just a few nights ago, when he had seen Elena being raped by that fucking dead man walking….had heard the helpless cries emanating from her…and then he had smelled her blood and seen red. After that gutless wonder Frederick had taken off – Damon couldn't wait to see _him_ again – and he had turned to Elena and observed what had been done to her…he had been in shock, and had actually _felt_ his eyes suddenly become a little more moist, a little damp, and it had taken him a second to figure out what was going on – that extra moisture was _tears_.

In _his_ eyes.

Damon Salvatore - the baddest of the bad, dangerous beyond belief, the blood-sucking fiend who had caroused his way through a century and a half of women, lies, alcohol and death without caring in the slightest about anybody or anything – had been brought to his emotional knees, had been _forced to care_ about this mere slip of a girl who had been laid out before him like an offering, bloody and tied up and exposed, every normal healthy vampire's dream….

And the first thought he had had was _not_ to feast upon her blood but to assess the damage (which had been hard for him to see); the second had been to cover her, to pick her up and take her to safety where he could defend her, protect her. He hadn't even wanted to give her over to _Stefan_, his own _brother,_ who he knew in his head Elena would be safe with…but his irrational, kick-started heart had said something different.

His heart had whispered - _mine._

Now, as Damon lingered at her side, even though all he could see was her hair spilling down the side of the couch and her profile, long lashes dark against her pale cheek, all he could think about was, _how do I make this better? How can I take away her pain?_ He shook his head at himself, not able to believe the thoughts that were running through his head – _how had this happened?_ How had Elena and her happiness become so important to him? How had she wormed her way past all his failsafe defenses, how had she single-handedly flipped that internal switch that turned on all his emotions, blasted fucking things that he had survived without since he had lost Katherine, been shot by his own father and betrayed by his brother all in the same twenty-four hours?

How had he fallen so in love with her?

Damon sighed, reaching out and tracing her profile almost before he knew what he was doing, slipping a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. It would take some time, he knew, but he would heal her heart like he had healed those awful marks that scumbag had left on her – _that_ had taken some discipline – and Stefan would regret that he had walked away from her but by the time he came to that realization, it would be too late.

Elena would be _his._

He reluctantly turned and left her, sauntering toward the kitchen to see if there was anything he could make her to eat – _Jesus, Damon, look at you!_ _You've turned into Martha-fucking-Stewart! You going to knit her little booties, too? _a derisive little voice mocked in his head – for when she woke up later.


	21. Chapter 21

After a fresh bout of tears, Elena had just lay there on the couch, eyes closed, listening to the far-away noises Damon was making in the kitchen – _what was he doing in there, anyway, _she thought,_ it's not like he eats – _and gathering the physical and emotional strength to actually get up.

Elena sighed deeply, finally casting the blanket aside and slowly standing. She supposed she should go see Damon, even though _She's not Katherine_ was still rattling around in her head. _When will you learn to harden your heart against the Salvatore brothers?_ a traitorous little voice piped up. _When will you accept the fact that they only keep you around because they can pretend you're a nicer, human version of their beloved?_

She walked down the hallway to the kitchen, which was just as enormous as all the other rooms in the boarding house, so it took her a moment to spot Damon, who was sitting on the counter and drinking what looked like to be a cut-crystal glass of blood. When he saw her he jumped down and set his glass on the island, gesturing vaguely toward the stainless steel stove, where a pot sat on the burner, something fragrant merrily burbling away inside.

"There's some soup there if you're hungry," he said, sounding very uncomfortable and looking at everything but her, and it took her a moment to realize why – Damon, in his black leather jacket and black clothing, being _domestic?_ She would have laughed if her heart hadn't been ripped out of her chest and stomped on – at least, that was what it felt like.

"Okay," she agreed, more to lessen his discomfort if nothing else – she wasn't really that hungry – and walked over to the cabinet where the dishes were kept, reaching up and selecting a bowl, then moving over to the stove to ladle out some soup. It didn't look too bad; she suspected Progresso. She sat down right at the island, glancing up when Damon handed her a spoon.

"Thank you," she acknowledged, taking care to avert her eyes quickly, fixing them on her soup, concentrating on spooning it up. _Should I tell him I know Stefan called?_ she wondered, but thought it best to say nothing, for now. Damon returned to the counter and his glass of blood, and awkward silence reigned for the duration of her meal, which was approximately ten minutes or so. She lost track of time as she half-ate, half-played with her soup, thinking about that letter Stefan had left for her – _if only I hadn't frozen up like that, would he still be here with me? But do I want him here with me? Do I even want to be here with _Damon?_ Maybe I should just go home._

She hadn't realized she had spoken the last line aloud until Damon answered her; he had been sitting on the counter again behind her the whole time.

"If you want to, I'll take you – that reminds me, something came here for you today," he said in a fake-cheerful tone, hopping down again and coming over to her. He looked in her bowl, then at her, frowning slightly.

"Are you done with that?" he asked her, noticing she had put her spoon down. "Shouldn't you eat more? I mean, I'm not too up on these things, but you humans need things like food to, like, live."

Elena gave him a funny look – what did he care if she finished, for God's sake? – but nodded, picking it up and turning to place it in the sink. As she did so, she noticed the ornate clock on the wall.

"It's five o'clock already? I didn't tell Jenna I was coming here after school," she blurted out, starting to hurry out of the room for her bag and cell phone, but he grabbed her arm before she could do so, turning her back to him.

"It's okay, I called and explained that Stefan had to go away and you wanted to see him off," he explained. "I made up this whole spiel about a sick aunt up in New York or some such drivel – she bought it; you're off the hook."

Elena nodded slowly, and then Damon was tugging her along with him - through the kitchen, the just-as-gigantic dining room, a pantry big enough to fit her bedroom into, then down a short hallway and into the garage where there was a plethora of cars, most of them Damon's, she knew. She spotted Stefan's little classic red car, the one he had taken to the Founder's Ball, and her insides felt cold…

…but then she was being led over to a black sporty-looking sedan, one she hadn't seen before in the Salvatore brothers' personal auto club. Damon stopped in front of this particular car, then turned to Elena and gestured to it with a flourish. When she didn't respond, merely looked at the car and then at him, not comprehending the whole field-trip, he looked at her in disbelief.

"C'mon, I did my best Vanna White impression and everything!" he exclaimed, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders, walking her a few steps closer to the expensive-looking car. "It's for _you."_

Her eyebrows shot up as she stared at it, then turned to Damon. "_What?"_ she asked, then glanced over her shoulder at the car again. "But – _how?"_

Damon shrugged leisurely. "It's amazing how people will deliver pretty much anything if the price is right, Elena." He waved one hand at the automobile. "It's a Jaguar XFR, top of the line everything. It practically drives _itself."_ Taking his hands off her shoulders, he led her around the back of the car – sure enough there was a silver leaping jungle cat plastered prominently on the trunk lid – to the driver's side door, opening it and making a _sit, sit_ motion. Elena could smell the brand-spanking newness of the interior wafting out. She shook her head again.

"Damon, I can't accept this from you," she explained very slowly, as if telling a first-grader not to touch the red burner on the stove, it was _hot._ "How much did this even cost?"

He shrugged, sitting down in the driver's seat himself and looking everything over. "I don't know, eighty, ninety thousand? Who cares about money, Elena? I've got oodles – picture that chick rolling around in piles of cash in that movie?" He opened the glovebox, rifling through the papers in it. "The engine's sick, too, _and_ it won all sorts of safety awards; it's like driving a freaking tank." He flashed a grin at her. "Except you look bad-ass."

Elena could only stare at him; he was like a teenage boy with his first car, the way he was running his hands over all the intricate-looking controls. "But – Damon, how would I explain this to Jenna? I can't just roll up in this, she'd want to know where the hell I got it!"

Damon cocked his head at her, rolling his cerulean eyes. "So say it's mine and I let you borrow it until you got around to buying some new wheels – something mundane and acceptable, like a _Ford_ or something, I don't know." The way Damon pronounced _Ford_ made it sound like he was saying something dirty. Elena threw her hands in the air; was this really happening?

"No, Damon," she said firmly, enunciating her words. _No, first-grader, we do _not_ eat the Play-Doh._ "It's too much, I can't take this. I'm going home." And she turned her back on him, determined to call Bonnie or Matt, somebody who could come pick her up and take her home. Before she could take maybe two steps forward, Damon was in front of her, barely disturbing the air, eyes blue and penetrating and locked on hers.

"Elena, I wanted you to have something safe to drive around in," he said quietly. " And I wanted to distract you, too – it's been a crap couple of days for you, and you have to admit, you haven't had one depressing thought in ten minutes, have you now?"

Elena's eyes widened in disbelief as she realized that he spoke the truth – she had been so shocked by this most recent turn of events, she hadn't thought about the basement, Stefan, or the new number one hit _She's not Katherine_ at all. He gave her a smug, knowing look, watching this play over her face.

"I've been around the block once or twice, you understand," he told her informatively, taking keys out of his jacket pocket and placing them in the palm of her right hand, then closing her fingers over them. "I _know_ things. _Important_ things."

Despite herself, despite everything, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and he grinned back at her, clearly delighted.

"Why don't you drive this home and see how you like it?" he told her, and as he said that, she looked down to see that her hand was still enveloped in his, pale strong fingers closed over hers. She glanced back up at him to see that he wasn't smiling anymore, in fact his face looked totally unreadable…and he still hadn't let her go.

"You won't be sad forever, Elena," he said so quietly she had to strain to hear him. She gazed up into his eyes, feeling almost light-headed, and his fingers tightened around hers once, quickly, and then dropped away.

"Just drive it home," he repeated almost plaintively and she found herself nodding in agreement, not really sure how it had happened.

"Alright," she replied, and he smiled, ushering her into the driver's seat as he went to gather her schoolbag; he was back in less than ten seconds, placing the bag in the backseat and then blurring around the car to the passenger's door, but she shook her head, locking the doors on him.

"I want to go by myself," she told him. "I want to be alone, Damon." She cut him off when he opened his mouth to reply.

"It's like driving a freaking tank," she parrotted, and his brow furrowed as he looked at the car, then back to her.

"Go ahead," he said, sounding deeply unhappy about this new twist, and she shook her head again, starting the car, which turned over very smoothly, making all sorts of impressive sounds.

"Why don't you put a belled collar on me," she muttered to herself, and he quirked a dark eyebrow at her, stepping back from the sleek car.

"Not a bad idea, Elena – I can have that delivered, too," he called to her, and once again she felt the corner of her mouth tug up slightly – _how did he keep managing to do that?_ she wondered – and to distract herself, looked over at him.

"Thank you, Damon," she said to him, and he nodded at her slightly, that shuttered look back on his face, and she turned her attention away from him, driving very carefully out of the garage and down the drive.

Damon waited until she had cleared the driveway and turned onto the main road back to town before he followed.


	22. Chapter 22

Elena made it home without incident as she carefully drove the most expensive car she'd ever been in. She had so much to think about and understand – or _not_ understand, as the case may be.

_Where do I even begin, _she thought…there was the sudden loss of her boyfriend, for whom their aborted makeout session had just been the icing on his _I'm not good for Elena_ cake…there was Damon, who was clearly feeling some sort of responsibility for her, because why else would he be so nice to her, purchasing this – this - _machine_ and insisting she drive it because it was safe…oh, yes, and to top it all off Katherine may or may not still be hanging around like a malevolent disease, waiting to strike, along with Elena's new BFF Frederick, who not only had sexually assaulted her but had called her _Katherine_ while doing so, which was kind of disturbing.

_Maybe I should just keep on driving, _Elena thought as she neared her house, only just then realizing that she was crying, sneaky little tears drifting down from her eyes. _Start over somewhere else, somewhere new, where nobody's heard of Katherine Pierce, Damon or Stefan Salvatore, or Elena Gilbert, and nobody cares. I can call myself Esmerelda and waitress in some diner or read palms on the corner…_

But no, she turned into her driveway, shutting off the massive engine and then just sitting there for a long moment, staring at the leather steering wheel as she tried to get some sort of grip on herself. _Stefan's gone_, she thought despondently, absently tracing the silver Jaguar cat over and over. _But did he ever really love me in the first place? Or did he just love who I looked like?_ _Why the hell is that, anyway? I mean, to pass down the color of one's eyes, or the shape of one's nose is understandable, but the entire freaking _package?_ There's got to be some sort of reason…_

Suddenly there was a soft knock on her window and she jumped in fright, but it was only Aunt Jenna, who motioned for her to get out. As she opened the door and gingerly stood up, Jenna exclaimed, "Elena, where did you get this _car?"_

Elena sighed inwardly. "It's Damon's – he's very generously letting me borrow it until the insurance check comes through for mine," she explained halfheartedly, hitching her schoolbag higher up on her shoulder. Jenna reached out and stroked the glossy black paint with one careful fingertip.

"Wow, that was really nice of him," she breathed, then gave her niece a speculative look over her shoulder…Elena's eyes widened in disbelief. _Did she really think…._

"Aunt Jenna! Damon is Stefan's _brother," _she cried. Jenna shrugged, shutting the car door after peeking inside and turning back to Elena.

"Well, he's really hot," she replied matter-of-factly. Elena shook her head, turning and heading into the house. Jenna followed her, apparently remembering her phone call from said hot brother, because she mentioned, "So, Stefan had to leave for New York? How long will he be there? Damon said that their uncle was really sick."

"I don't know, Aunt Jenna," Elena told her inquisitive aunt as she started to climb the stairs to her room. "I really don't know."

Jenna seemed to sense that Elena was not in the best of moods and after letting her know that some leftovers from dinner were available in the fridge, she vanished into the family room. Elena reached the top of the stairs and walked into her room, slinging her stuff onto her chair and flopping onto her bed with her iPod, but before she could insert the earbuds she heard laughter drifting out of the bathroom she shared with her brother.

_Meredith,_ she thought, which made her feel even more depressed about Stefan leaving. She shoved the earbuds in and chose the saddest song she owned, Linkin Park's _My December._ _Better put it on repeat,_ she darkly reasoned, laying back on her soft pillows and clutching her stuffed bear hard to the ache in her chest where her heart had once happily resided.

Later on, in order to appear somewhat normal, Elena went downstairs and watched _The Goonies_ with her aunt and brother; Meredith had apparently departed for home, wherever that was. She didn't really pay attention to one of her favorite childhood movies, her thoughts randomly shifted from topic to topic like she had set her brain on shuffle, and only when Jeremy thrust the popcorn bowl at her from time to time did she snap out of it, but just briefly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jenna cast more speculative looks at her, but didn't respond, just sat on the couch and tried to figure out the train wreck her life had become.

_The funny thing is, not even two years ago I was happy…I had a normal life,_ she thought to herself as the movie finished and she announced she was going upstairs to go to bed. Climbing the stairs, she reminisced about the old Elena, who didn't even know vampires or witches existed…who might not have had a great love in her life, but also didn't have this great pain she now carried in her soul, either…

She showered, standing under the hot water for a long time, then dressed in clean pajamas and got into her soft bed all alone, turning the lights off and setting her alarm for school the next day…she didn't remember falling asleep but she must have, because the next thing she knew she was in the boarding house again, standing in the middle of Stefan's room by herself.

_What am I doing here?_ she wondered, but then Stefan was standing in front of her, and her heart leaped in her chest – Stefan was here! – but then he spoke.

"I don't want you anymore," he told her seriously, and she tried to stop him, tried to reach out and snag his sleeve, grab his hand, _anything_, but he vanished like smoke…and she heard laughter, feminine laughter, _Katherine's_ laughter…_ha ha, Elena, he's with me now, he'll never be yours again, he was never _really_ yours to begin with…you poor, poor girl, did you think he was?..._

"Stop!" she cried out, trying to find a way out of Stefan's room, but the door seemed to have disappeared just like her boyfriend, and that mocking laughter seemed to envelope her as she sank to her knees, unable to escape, crying for her to just stop, please _stop…_she had already won, couldn't she just stop…..

_Elena…Elena….wake up, Elena…open your eyes, Elena, come on…._ a different voice was saying, a male voice, one she knew…her eyelids fluttered open and there was someone above her, hands on her shoulders gently shaking her awake, but it was dark and her eyes closed again, and then she heard her bed creaking as a body settled onto it, as strong arms came around her and she felt safe, protected, her cheek lay cushioned on some cool surface that felt good against her flushed skin, and she drifted deeper into sleep….

"Damon," she sighed without even knowing it, and she never felt the lips that pressed againt her temple for a long moment…


	23. Chapter 23

The next several weeks passed by in a blur for Elena. She got up every weekday morning and went to school, either driving the Jaguar that Damon had flat-out refused to take back or being taken by Bonnie or Matt or Damon himself. After school she sometimes went to the boarding house to do her homework in the greatroom, the roaring fire warming her, Damon on the couch next to her, or hung out with Bonnie or Matt and Caroline, Tyler tagging along once in awhile.

A few times she and Jenna, along with Jeremy and the ever-present, always cheerful Merry went to dinner at the Grill; most times she or Jenna made dinner at home. Damon actually joined them for some of these homemade dinners, flattering Jenna by raving about her cooking skills or discusing historical events with Alaric, who also dined with them from time to time. Weekends were usually spent doing more of the same; one cold Saturday she and Bonnie had gone to "90s Weekend" at the dollar movie theater in town; during _Untamed Heart_ she had had to get up, apoligizing profusely, and leave the theater altogether, unable to take the intense outpouring of love between Marisa Tomei and Christian Slater. She had cried all the way home.

There was no word from Stefan, ever.

Damon watched over her carefully; sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night to see him, outlined just slightly by the faint moonlight streaming in the window, sitting in the chair, and it made her feel secure. Other times, the bad times when she would wake up with nightmares, he would be sitting on the side of her bed, sometimes even waking her up and rescuing her from some vague horribleness, and several times she had silently leaned against him, his arms coming around her, and she would close her eyes as he held her – then those were the best times, those were the times she felt close to normal again.

Lately, however, he had taken to not only embracing her for long, long moments until she felt better enough to lay back down again, but following her down, taking off his jacket if he was wearing it and stretching out on top of the covers and holding her in his arms, chin resting on top of her head and his chest supporting her back. Though this did make her feel guilty, as if she were cheating on Stefan, another part of her, a ruthless part of her, would say _And so what if you were? He left you, remember? What does he care about what you do? Besides, you're not really doing anything, anyway…Damon doesn't feel that way about you, let's all remember who you're not, so get over it and accept his friendship-slash-responsibleness for you._

Elena had never told Damon she had overheard that phone conversation the day Stefan had left, but she had never forgotten it, either. She also hadn't confided in Bonnie about it; the whole thing kind of embarassed her and made her feel horrible about herself. Trying to forget it didn't work, either, so she just tried to live with it, as she was trying to live with everything else – she was living, all right, but she wasn't _feeling_ anything anymore, which was how she was surviving.

One snowy Friday night long after dinner Elena was holed up in her room, lying on her bed, reading and listening to her iPod when there was a sudden noise at her unlatched window and Damon was in her room before she could even blink, his dark hair sparkling with snowflakes. She blinked. He grinned.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked her and she rolled her eyes, setting her book aside and pulling out her earphones.

"Not much," she replied, and he cocked an eyebrow at her book before flopping into her threadbare easy chair across the room.

"I can see that," he drawled. She glanced at her bedside alarm clock – eleven-thirty. Jenna was probably asleep in her bed by now, and she had caught a glimpse of Jeremy half an hour ago when she went to use the bathroom – he was listening to _his_ iPod while playing video games. Nobody would hear…maybe it was time to ask…Sitting up straight, legs draped over the end of her bed, she took a deep breath and commended her soul to God, not knowing if what she was about to say would piss Damon off.

"Damon, it's been almost a month…have you ever heard from Stefan?" she implored, and he seemed taken aback for a brief second, blue eyes flaring slightly before he opened his mouth and lied.

"No," he said bluntly. She narrowed her eyes at him, all at once tired of the pretense.

"Not at _all?"_ she asked again in a dangerous tone. He gave her a _cuckoo!_ look, actually having the gall to smirk at her.

"Not at all," he replied again in a flat tone. Elena took another deep breath to fortify herself – this was going to be _bad_ – and continued.

"That's not true – I heard you talking to him on the day he left, when you thought I was asleep on the sofa," she told him all in a rush, finally letting the poison out. He just stared at her, not moving, and she continued. "Remember? You were telling him that he didn't deserve me, that he shouldn't have walked away, and how – how – " She stopped speaking, the words rising up in her throat to choke her, heart pounding almost out of her chest.

In a flash he was up and across the room, standing right in front of her, not looking happy at all. She gulped at the look on his face.

"Okay, so I lied," he said easily, though his eyes were stormy blue, like his mind was in turmoil behind them. "I thought it best, Elena – "

_He did not just say that! _"You thought it _best?"_ she hissed at him, standing up now to face him, though he was bigger and taller than she. _"You_ thought it best? Did he tell you where he was? Did he say anything about – "

He made a negative gesture with his hand. "I don't know where he is, Elena – he could be in freaking Azerbaijan, who knows – but the point is that he _left you_, and if he wasn't coming back then I didn't want to subject you to further pain by telling you he called!" Then it was his turn to focus that cerulean gaze right on her face. "Besides, everything you heard was true."

_Oh, God, that one hurt. _It felt like he had just run her through with a sword like an ancient Japanese samurai committing seppuku. She gasped in breath, feeling her knees weaken; she sat down hard on the end of her bed very quickly. He looked at her in concern, but before he could say anything those words that had choked her before came right out this time.

"Like when you told him you weren't happy because you hadn't gotten what you wanted – _I'm not Katherine," _she managed to get out. Then, like that had been the cork plugging up her emotions for the past four weeks, _everything_ came flooding out before she could stop it. "I know, Damon. I know that you've been here while Stefan hasn't out of responsibility, that's why you've been here, because you were the one to find me after Frederick – after he – and I can never be anything more to anybody, you _or_ Stefan because I'm not her, I just look like her – that's all I am, just a freak of nature – that's why Stefan left – I'm not good enough - " She was crying now, trying to speak through her tears, breath starting to hitch because it felt so _good_ to let out all the thoughts that had been twisting through her brain like poisonous snakes for so long, and so _bad_ because now Damon knew that _she_ knew the truth.

Througout her whole confession, Damon hadn't moved, hadn't flinched, hadn't even _blinked_. She stopped talking mid-sentence and looked down at the floor, ashamed, cheeks hot and tears still flowing. "Just forget it," she muttered, hastily swiping at her cheeks. "Forget it, Damon, I know what I am and what I'm not."

She turned away, meaning to leave her room if he was going to stay, she just wanted to get _away_ from him – _God, I'm so embarassed, why did I _say_ all of that – _

Damon's hand caught her forearm, turning her back to him in one smooth motion.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: Once again, thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! Just a quick note; I don't think all the Damon-Elena stuff could happen in a month, which is about when Stefan peaced out of Mystic Falls, but I'm moving it along for the storyline's sake. And come on, it's what we all want, right? **

Elena suddenly found herself standing in front of Damon again; embarassed, she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. He curled two fingers under her chin, tilting her face up so he could look down at her with those azure eyes, and even though she was humiliated beyond belief, the look on his face knocked her for a loop.

Damon looked shocked. Utterly, completely shocked.

Before Elena could say or do anything, he asked in an incredulous tone, "What in _hell_ are you talking about?" All while keeping a firm grip on her so she couldn't bolt.

_Oh, God, I have to _repeat_ myself? _she thought, agonized, but apparently it was a rhetorical question, because he continued, _"That's _what you think? I wanted Katherine instead of you? I'm just here because of some – some – " he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, as if beseeching God for much-needed patience in dealing with her, "_sense of responsibility?"_

Elena had never felt this uncomfortable. If a giant hole had opened up under her feet and sucked her down into some bottomless pit, she would have gratefully fallen with a prayer of thanks. She couldn't even look away from him. So she sucked in a breath and replied, "Yes," in a voice that was only a little wavery. "I _heard _you say it."

Again, that fathomless blue stare, as if he couldn't quite understand what she was saying, and he was still holding her prisoner. If a meteor had just then crashed into the house, vaporizing it instantly, Elena would gratefully become nothing but a few molecules with a prayer of thanks. Finally, after a few more seconds that seemed to last an eternity, Damon spoke.

"Elena, you heard me say that you're not Katherine," he said very slowly to her, never taking his eyes from her face, "but that's not how I meant it at all. What you _are_," he said forcefully, suddenly gripping her upper arms with both hands, "is an angel, inside and out, Elena, probably the best person I've ever known, and what you are _not_," he lowered his voice slightly, "is a bloody sociopath who exists to hurt people, to _use_ them, to discard them when you've drained them dry of everything they had. I don't _see_ her anymore when I look at you, I see only _you,_ Elena."

He paused for a moment, as if struggling with some internal decision.

"I have never felt about anybody in my entire existense the way I feel about you, not _even_ Katherine, " he confessed to her in a near-whisper. "Katherine was some – some _obsession_ that I carried with me for a long, long time. But do you know the bad thing about obsessions, Elena?" He continued without waiting for a response. "They're always one-sided. They never give back." He laughed shortly, bitterly. "Obsessions grow downright _lonely_…haven't you noticed I've changed, Elena?" he asked, swiftly changing topics. "I've changed since I came back to Mystic Falls, since I've met you. I haven't killed anybody, I haven't drank from anybody, I haven't _hurt _anybody in months. I wanted you to look at me not as a monster, but as a _man,_ a man – " Damon took a deep breath, "you could be with."

Silence. Utter, complete silence.

Elena stared at him in astonishment. He didn't say anything, just kept looking at her, _through_ her into her soul, with those cursed eyes…when she didn't say anything he glanced down to her lips for a long moment, then back up to her eyes.

"I need you, Elena…I love you," Damon whispered, voice breaking just a little bit on the last word, eyes searching hers. "I _love_ you," he repeated, voice stronger this time, more powerful, as if affirming this statement before God and everybody.

Elena felt lightheaded, and her heart was pounding so hard she shuddered with every beat. Damon looked down at her body for a second.

"You're shaking," he said wonderingly, and she just nodded, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to _breathe._ His face moved a little closer to hers, again his gaze traveled to her mouth, then back to her eyes, as if asking permission. His lips were so close to hers...her eyelids fluttered closed and she tilted her face, angling it slightly, and then they were kissing, so forcefully that Elena would have fallen if he hadn't been holding her. She felt the tip of his tongue touch hers, and gasped; his response was to plunder her mouth, and they were locked together for long, long moments.

_It's not enough_, Elena thought to herself almost deleriously. _It will never be enough, this passion. It will consume us; we will go up in flames right here in my room…_

But eventually they did part, though their lips remained mere centimeters apart, and then Elena spoke, her voice unusually rusty-sounding.

"I…Damon, you – " she started to say, but he shook his head, placing a finger over her mouth to stop her from talking.

"No, Elena, it's okay…I know you still need time to – " he started to tell her, but she reached up, pulling his hand away from her face so she could talk.

"Damon, you didn't leave," she said forcefully, staring as hard as she could into his eyes. "_You didn't leave me."_

His eyes widened slightly, and then he was on her again. "I would _never_ leave you, Elena," he whispered against her mouth, kissing her again and again. _"I would never leave."_

He moved forward until the backs of her knees hit the foot of her bed, and then she was falling, Damon right on top of her, though when they hit the mattress he braced his weight on his elbows. She broke their kiss, peeling his leather jacket off his shoulders; he reared back on his knees to take it off and as he did so she saw something on the interior. She made a grab for it and his fingers tightened on it, as if he didn't want her to have it.

"Damon…" Elena trailed off, sitting up herself and digging her fingers into the butter-soft leather. He wouldn't let _go_, until finally she gave him a pleading look and he sighed, releasing it to her with some reluctance. She spread it out between them, tracing the faint red stains on the cloth interior with her fingers.

_That night in the basement…he covered me with this before he took me upstairs… _She looked up at him in wonder.

"Is this my blood?" she asked in a whisper, and his eyes burned into hers for a moment before he looked away.

"Yes," he muttered, as if she was tearing the answer out of him. "I wear it to feel close to you….kind of sick, I know." He reached out and took it from her, tossing it across the room onto her easy chair, and as he did so she moved forward, kissing him, feeling his hands come up to cup her face, and it was so beautiful and tender she felt tears come to her eyes. _If our first kiss was fire, this is peace, _she thought to herself. _This is like comfort, balm soothing my soul; it's like coming home._

Again, it took a long time for them to part, and when they did Elena looked at him and said, "I love you, Damon."

"I love _you,"_ he said right back to her, and it was like he was saying something holy.


	25. Chapter 25

**(another!) Author's Note: I acknowledge that I totally ripped off Edward Cullen's wedding ring from **_**Breaking Dawn **_**with the "secret" rubies inside, but I thought it was a neat little idea that would fit in well with this part of the story. As always, I very much enjoy reading your awesome reviews – a big thank you and lots of smiles!**

They kissed on her bed for what seemed like hours, long, leisurely kisses - Damon kept trailing his mouth under Elena's jaw line to her neck, which she didn't quite understand.

"Why do you do that?" she asked him, adding, "Not that I'm complaining," and then sucking in her breath as he nipped her earlobe. He shrugged, working his way back over her cheek and kissing her lips.

"The neck is a special place for a vampire," he explained to her, rolling onto his back and taking her with him; she ended up straddling his waist as she listened to his answer. "It's kind of like a trust thing – you're trusting me not to rip your throat out when I kiss you there."

Elena felt her eyes widen slightly at that statement and its casual delivery, and Damon rolled his eyes and groaned, reaching up and grabbing her and bringing her down to him.

"Elena, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out like that," he told her, voice full of remorse. She shook her head against his shoulder, feeling his arms tighten around her and one hand stroke her back.

"No, it's alright…I know you wouldn't hurt me," she answered. He pushed her shoulders back slightly so her face hovered above his; he had a very serious look on his face, which was kind of rare.

"I would _never,_ Elena," he stated firmly, thumb tracing her cheekbone as he stared into her eyes; her response was to lower her head and then they were kissing _again…_eventually, shirts were peeled off and jeans were discarded, so they lay only in their underwear half-under the comforter. They were both shy, it seemed, because they were very careful about where they put their hands – Damon made sure not to touch her breasts or anything else, mainly skimming her arms or back and being very careful to keep his lower body away from her, and Elena kept her hands for the most part on his shoulders or chest. Eventually, Damon lifted his mouth from hers and said in a serious tone of voice, "Elena, we don't have to do anything tonight, you know. I've waited one hundred and fifty years for you – I think I can wait a little longer." He flashed her a grin. "Not _too_ long, you understand, though – sometime this century would be good."

Elena smiled slightly at him as she thought _there are so many sides to Damon Salvatore._ Out loud, she said, "No, Damon, I…I _need _this. I need to be with somebody who loves me. This feels – _right."_ As the words left her mouth, she realized how true they were. She could lay there half-naked with him in her bed, snuggled right up close to each other, and _not_ freak out and _not_ stiffen up and _not_ feel ashamed….in fact, now that she thought about it, that had never happened with Damon, except the morning after the major weirdness with Stefan went down, and that hadn't been really about him anyway, she had just been out of sorts. He lifted a shoulder briefly, kissing the tip of her nose.

"If you're sure," he replied, and she nodded before lifting her mouth up again for another kiss. As their mouths met, his hands made their way around to her back and deftly unsnapped her bra; hers trailed down his waist, fingers hooking into the band of his underwear and slowly pulling them down; he finished the job. His eyes wandered over her body, and she noticed he paid special attention to where he had healed Frederick's nasty bitemark over her right breast, but he didn't say anything, only bent his head to kiss the area gently before his lips trailed lower and Elena closed her eyes…his fingertips meandered over her stomach and down towards her panties, the last barrier separating their bodies, and as they grazed the flimsy cloth he stopped. She opened her eyes to find that his were centimeters away from hers, boring into her soul.

"Are you _sure?"_ he breathed, and she kissed him, which he seemed to take as an affirmative answer, for he slid them down; Elena brought her legs up so he could take them completely off, and just like that they were completely uncovered, bare to the other's inquisitive touches and their hands wandered all over for a very long time, as if they were brand new not only to each other but the entire act of love….Damon eventually claimed Elena for his own, though he hesitated at the last, positioned over her slender body with her legs wrapped around his hips. She smiled radiantly at him, her hands on his back urging him forward, and he surrendered to her love, in that moment feeling clean and new and good, like none of the brutal and heartless acts he had committed in the past had happened at all.

Later, as they lay with limbs entwined and hearts full, he kissed the top of her head and quipped, "That was worth waiting a century and a half for."

Elena smacked him playfully, her head resting on his muscular chest. "I can _hear_ you smiling," she told him, and felt him chuckle, his hand tightening on her hip.

"So what if I am…I feel pretty damn happy," Damon replied. "Elena, I've wanted you for a long freaking time; this is like Christmas morning for me."

She rose up on one elbow, looking into his eyes, which lasered into hers with complete sincerity. His eyebrow quirked up at her serious expression, and he lifted her body onto his so she draped over him like a blanket; his hands anchored her to him at her waist as he spoke, choosing his words carefully.

"I've done a lot of bad things, Elena, and I've been with a lot of women," he told her, and when she ducked her head one of his hands flashed up to tilt her face back to his. "But I wish I could turn the clock back to 1864 and erase all that to live out a normal human life with you, no Katherine, no vampires, just a happy seventy or so years with you at my side."

She didn't speak, just gazed at him, her heart so full she thought it might burst. He lifted her up a little so he could kiss her thoroughly.

"You are my first real love…and my last," he whispered against her mouth before kissing her for a second time, and then they were lost to each other once again…

Damon left when the clock struck seven, feeble winter sunlight struggling to overcome the occasional snow showers. As he dressed in the middle of the room lightning-fast, a strange look appeared on his face and he reached into his interior jacket pocket, withdrawing a small white box and returning to Elena's bed, where she lay warm and cozy under the comforter. As he sat down on the side of the bed she sat up against the headboard, wondering what was going on. Before she could say anything, though, he spoke, eyes lowering to the box he held.

"When you were taken and we weren't sure where you were…I wanted to make sure that never happened again," he explained, cerulean eyes flashing back up to hers. "I had this made for you…an old, old witch – no, she's _really_ old, like ninety or so," he said quickly, raising an eyebrow at the objection he saw on her face. "Anyway, she cast a homing spell on it so I'll always be able to find you…"

Damon opened the lid; nestled in dark velvet lay a silver ring with an oval-shaped red gem in the center. He took it out, holding it in his fingers, where it looked impossibly small and delicate.

"It's a ruby; I have to wear one too, see?" He took a second box out of his pocket and opened it up to reveal a wider silver band. Curiously she tilted her head at it; no rubies to be seen, until he showed her the inside held a secret channel of square-cut rubies that would lie against his skin.

His gaze then focused on her necklace, and out of long habit her fingers crept up to it. He nodded as if this affirmed something, eyes locking back on hers.

"I won't ask you to take that off," he told her. "What was between you and Stefan was real, no matter how broody and martyr-like he is; there's no denying it and no wishing it away. And he gave that to you to protect you; you should wear it for that reason as well." She nodded thoughtfully and he held out the ring to her. "But I want you to wear this, too." Suddenly something passed over his face so quickly Elena couldn't catch it. "I mean,_ please,"_ he amended.

Elena smiled briefly at him before extending her hand to him; he took it, lowering his gaze as he slid the ring up her finger, the corner of his mouth tugging up slightly as he did so; belatedly she realized she had held out her _left_ hand. He looked back up, still holding her hand, and flashed a blinding grin at her before swooping in for a kiss.

"I'll see you later," he said, hand leaving hers to caress her cheek. "I love you, Elena."

She smiled at him, totally understanding his earlier statement about it feeling like Christmas morning. "I love you, too."

Then he was gone, disappearing out her window as if he hadn't even been there in the first place…only the ring on her finger proving that he had been, that last night hadn't been some wonderful dream but a real, life changing, incredible event…Elena collapsed onto her soft pillows, a ridiculously happy smile on her face, feeling like a brand-new person, like anything was possible.

All because Damon loved her.

Eventually she rose and showered, dressing in jeans and layering a dark green V-neck long-sleeved tee over a white one. She did so in front of the mirror, and her gaze caught on the necklace Stefan had given her roughly a million years and another Elena ago. She hesitated before touching it gently. _Should I take it off?_ she thought to herself, staring at its innocuous reflection as it lay against her skin. _But Damon did have a point; there's no denying that I was with Stefan, and it was a present given not only in love, but to protect me as well…_ Her mind shoved away all thoughts of Stefan, and in the end she left it on as she went down to breakfast.

The rest of the weekend was spent with Damon at the boarding house, with the exception of a pre-scheduled shopping trip with Bonnie on Sunday, but Elena came right back to Damon, who was waiting for her at the boarding house. He took her back to her house at about eight Sunday night so she could get ready for school the next day, kissing her for a long time before she climbed out of the massive Hummer, promising to come to her room later that evening.

Elena was still blushing slightly when she entered the house, waving to Jenna before she headed up the stairs, but Jenna called for her to come into the family room. Elena did so, sitting on the couch next to her aunt, noticing that Merry was over and she and Jeremy were watching the first _Transformers_ and having snacks, separated from the couch by a huge area rug and coffee table.

"Elena…" Jenna started to say, then trailed off, a very strange look on her face, as if she knew what she wanted to say but wasn't sure how to go about it. Elena raised an eyebrow at Jenna, who took a deep breath and tried again. "Elena…are you with Damon now? What about Stefan?"

Elena's eyes widened slightly and it was her aunt's turn to blush, but she had a stubborn look on her face and Elena knew that Jenna wanted answers. She shrugged, looking down for a second.

"Aunt Jenna…I don't think Stefan's coming back," Elena said quietly, picking at the couch's upholstery. "He's staying where he is, and Damon…Damon loves me," she confessed, lifting her gaze back up to her aunt, who looked a little stunned. "And, Aunt Jenna, I love him." When Jenna said nothing, Elena rushed to continue. "I am so_ happy_ with him, Aunt Jenna! I've never felt like this before…it's like I'm looking at everything through brand-new eyes. I – " she stopped talking for a moment, as the truth hit her, "I don't think I ever felt like this about Stefan…I think I _wanted_ to be in love with him, so I _thought _I was, but I wasn't really."

Elena fell silent, feeling a little shaken by this revelation, and Jenna nodded slowly, smiling at her niece.

"Elena, that's all I want, for you to be happy…if this is what you want, then who am I to say anything?" She held out her arms for a hug and Elena went into them, feeling a little bittersweet as she said a mental goodbye to what she thought had been love for Stefan, but still feeling ecstatic over her newfound love with Damon.

Wrapped up in Aunt Jenna's support and love, Elena never noticed Meredith's eyes narrow slightly as she listened to their conversation from across the room.


	26. Chapter 26

Later on that evening, after Jenna had gone to bed and Jeremy and Meredith were in Jeremy's room playing their endless video games, Elena went upstairs to her room to get ready for bed and wait for Damon, who had promised to come to her room. She smiled dreamily to herself as she all but floated into her room, closing her door behind her –

- and as she turned around, her bathroom door suddenly closed and Meredith was standing in the middle of her room, staring at her.

Elena jumped back a little, gasping. "You scared me, Merry!" she said, laughing a little to cover her fright. "Did you need something?"

"Well, yes, actually," Meredith responded, tilting her head and regarding Elena much like a scientist studies a bug under glass. "You."

Elena looked at her funny, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "I'm sorry, what?"

Meredith took a step closer to Elena, suddenly looking a lot less wholesome and cheerful even with her long blonde hair. "Of course you're not going to know who I am, but I'm sure you know my friend…she looks just like you."

_That_ took a minute for Elena to process, but when it did she had no idea what to do – was Meredith a _vampire?_ Jenna? Was Jeremy okay? _Damon, this is a really good time for you to show up,_ she thought desperately.

"You're a_ vampire?"_ she asked in disbelief, and Meredith smiled, shrugging slightly. _She looks like Cheerleader Barbie ran_ through Elena's mind.

"Nobody ever suspects me because I look like this," she confirmed. "But Katherine turned me in the year 1781…my betrothed was a patriot fighting in the War for Independence and was killed at Cowpens – one of only twenty-five casualties! – and, well, I wanted to die myself. Katherine was posing as wealthy South Carolina gentry; we had met at one of the many balls in years past and struck up a friendship. She was the one to find me with a straight razor to my wrist out in the barn – she could smell the blood," Meredith explained, smiling as if this were amusing, "and managed to convince me that there was a new life, a better life, waiting for me…." Meredith seemed to stare past Elena, as if there was something only she could see just over Elena's shoulder. "A life where I didn't have to feel pain, or guilt, or miss Daniel…and now, dear girl," she actually smiled at Elena, snapping back to the present, "here I am to repay that long-ago favor."

Elena could only gaze at Meredith in complete shock, her brain racing to process all that the petite blonde vampire with the beautiful slate eyes had just told her. "Katherine sent you?" she asked, then suddenly remembered something. "Wait – Stefan said he recognized you – "

Meredith nodded. "I visited Katherine once or twice when she was pretending to be a sweet little orphan girl at the Salvatore mansion during the War of Northern Aggression…Stefan happened upon us while we were taking tea in the drawing room, but we only met for a brief minute and besides, back then he only had eyes for Katherine….I never was able to meet Damon, so he doesn't know who I am." She fixed Elena again with that direct, eerie stare. "It really_ is_ remarkable, you know…you could be twins." She laughed prettily, amused. "Well, that is, if she wasn't your great-grandmother."

Things were progressing rather quickly; Elena had been so astonished at this turn of events that she had forgotten all about Jeremy in the next room, innocently playing video games and probably waiting for Meredith to return, not knowing – without thinking she glanced at the closed bathroom door and Meredith shook her head, taking another step closer to Elena, probably to stop her if she bolted.

"Now, now, there's nothing to worry about, I haven't hurt your brother, I've just compelled him to think I'm in the powder room, and not to move a muscle until I return…in fact, I've grown rather _fond_ of Jeremy," she said, and Elena, who had thought this encounter couldn't possibly get any weirder, watched as Meredith's face twisted slightly, as if she was – _upset?_ Elena couldn't tell – but then the vampire smoothed out her features and in the tiniest fraction of a second was right up on Elena, grabbing her arm so she couldn't even think about moving.

"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Elena cried, struggling for a short, futile moment in Meredith's grasp, who lifted a shoulder casually as she held Elena's arm in her steel grasp.

"It seems that Katherine wants her boys back, and since Stefan has departed for parts unknown, she's starting with Damon," she explained. "However, you present a problem, as I heard with my own ears this evening that you and he are in love - you see, I was supposed to do this weeks ago, but I…I was preoccupied." Again, that quick spark of emotion darkened her gray eyes, and then was gone again. "But no matter; there's still time to carry out my mission." She smiled at Elena again like they were friends – _why does she keep _doing_ that? _Elena thought as she tried again in vain to rip her arm out of Meredith's grasp. The vampire shook her head at Elena again.

"Will you_ stop_ that? It won't do you any good, and besides, I'm not going to _hurt_ you," she scoffed. "I just have to compel you to undertake a few tasks and then you're going to disappear, my dear…Katherine doesn't want any harm to come to you; you _are_ her progeny after all; she just wants you to – go away."

_She doesn't know about my necklace – I can just fake it when she tries to compel me,_ Elena thought in relief, but then Meredith easily had both her wrists in one pale, strong hand, moving so fast Elena's eyes couldn't follow, and reached up with her other hand, deftly finding the clasp on the vervain locket and removing it from Elena's neck, shoving it in her pocket. Elena's eyes widened, and Meredith chuckled.

"That was easy; I know Stefan gave it to you and it was the only thing Katherine couldn't duplicate when she assumed your identity to kill John," she told Elena. Then she stood perfectly still, focused, staring deeply into Elena's eyes, and though she closed them in a last ditch attempt, Meredith squeezed her wrists until she yelped in pain, eyelids flying open involuntarily, and Meredith smiled, pupils contracted rhythmically as she locked eyes with Elena, who went completely still.

"This is what you're going to do…"

Later that night, after Meredith had hidden Elena's necklace and left her room, her assignment completed, Elena lay in her bed, feeling – strange. She had taken a shower and then gone straight to bed with a headache that a dose of Advil hadn't taken care of yet….

Suddenly there was movement at her window and Damon was in her room, bringing with him a gust of cold air from outside. He grinned rakishly at her as he shucked his jacket, then shirt and pants, tossing them all onto her chair before blurring over to her bed and burrowing under the covers, taking her in his arms and kissing her – but then he drew back in concern.

"Is there something wrong?" he inquired, eyes searching her face. "I expect a little more enthusiasm; don't you remember who I am? I'm Mystic Falls' most eligible bachelor!" His jesting words couldn't cover up the note of concern in his voice. Elena shook her head, resting her cheek against his muscular chest, feeling his arms close around her.

"No, it's just that my head hurts…I don't know," she replied, feeling vaguely out of sorts. He kissed the top of her head as he held her.

"Go to sleep, then, Elena," he said softly. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Elena nodded drowsily, settling herself more comfortably against Damon's body before drifting off…as she did so, Damon's chin rested on top of her silky brown head as he stared across the room at the wall, lost in contemplation….

Elena felt better in the morning, and so went to school, Damon driving her and picking her up promptly at two-fifteen. He started to drive toward her house, but she objected, telling him she wanted to go to the boarding house, and so they arrived there a short time later. He watched her exit the car thoughtfully, and then followed her into the house and through the elaborate foyer to the great room, where she sat down on the couch and stared into the darkened fireplace. He followed her gaze.

"Would you like me to light a fire?" Damon asked her, and she nodded, smiling briefly at him before turning away and rummaging in her school bag, then standing up.

"I'll go get us something to drink," Elena told him, walking towards the wet bar on the other side of the room before he could reply. Shrugging, Damon started to set twigs and newspaper into the hearth…if he had looked closer at Elena just then, he would have noticed her eyes had changed, pupils contracting though the light was dim already.

At the bar, Elena turned her back to Damon and unstoppered the decanter that held his favorite Scotch, alien thoughts running through her mind, speaking to her, telling her what she had to do...

…_take this vial of vervain extract, you don't want to go home after school tomorrow…go to the boarding house, tell him you'll make him a drink…._

Elena filled a crystal tumbler with the expensive whiskey, then surreptitiously unscrewed the tiny glass vial and tipped the contents in.

…_you need to pour the entire contents in – this is very strong and he probably won't gulp his drink – then put the vial into your pocket, shove it down deep! Prepare a drink for yourself, too, so he doesn't become suspicious…then bring him his while you drink yours._

She reached into the small, tasteful mini fridge inside the bar, extracting a bottle of water for herself, then turned around and made her way back to the sofa, where Damon had started a nice little fire that was quickly gaining power. She handed him his whiskey, carefully not making eye contact, and then lowered herself to the couch. He gave her a funny look as he accepted his drink.

"Since when do you serve me?" he asked, flopping down next to her gracefully and throwing his arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side. She didn't say anything, merely opened her bottle of water and took a drink, leaning her head against his shoulder. He lifted his other shoulder as he swirled the contents of his drink around; Elena's eyes focused on the tumbler sparkling in the firelight, then looked away quickly, taking another drink of water.

"Better watch out, you're going to spoil me," he warned cheerfully, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and frowning when she just continued to sit there.

"Elena, what's going on with you? Does your head still hurt?" he questioned her. "I mean, you're not your usual happy self…" When she still didn't answer he shook his head, then brought the Scotch to his lips and took a healthy swig –

and the powerful extract slid down his throat, burning, choking him almost immediately.

Damon dropped the tumbler onto the floor as he grabbed his throat, falling to his knees onto the floor in front of the couch, his entire body on fire. He tried to speak, tried to say Elena's name, to tell her he was _dying,_ but managed only to wheeze slightly before his vision dimmed and his head hit the floor.


	27. Chapter 27

"_When you leave the boarding house, walk down the driveway to the main road; a black car will be waiting for you there to take you to the airport, and the driver will escort you to your gate. You will be met by another man at LAX, and he will be the one to deliver you safe and sound to a very private, very expensive institution. The man who runs it is a good friend of Katherine's, and he's been compensated very handsomely to ensure your lifelong stay – of course, with plenty of sedative drugs to keep you docile." Meredith instructed Elena. She sighed then, the emotion on her face an odd mix of satisfaction and sadness. "Katherine will take your place here, and nobody will be the wiser…and I will be free to stay with Jeremy for as long as I want. Who knows?" Her laugh tinkled in Elena's ears. "Perhaps one day soon I will turn him, too, and we can be together for eternity…"_

Following Meredith's sinister instructions to the letter, Elena walked out of the house without a backwards glance at Damon, who was unconscious in front of the fireplace. She continued down the long, tree-lined driveway, her destination the main road where the mysterious black car would be waiting for her. Under compulsion, she didn't really hear anything or notice much, focused as she was on Meredith's instructions playing over and over in her mind like a recording, so when Frederick darted out of the trees, snatched her up and flashed back into the forest she didn't even put up a struggle.

Frederick ran with Elena under his arm like a mannequin until he reached a small cottage seven miles due west from the boarding house, hidden deep in the Old Wood. He had snapped the neck of the owner three days after those bastard Salvatore brothers had stolen his prize right out from under him, literally _and_ figuratively, and had stalked Elena ever since. The problem was, she was always _with_ a Salvatore, and while he had talked big and bad when they couldn't enter his previous home base, he quailed at the thought of actually confronting either one of them when he was by himself. The other vampires – those that Alaric or the brothers _hadn't_ killed – had taken off that night, never to be seen again, so he was on his own.

He reached the door of the quaint little dwelling and went inside, promptly depositing Miss Gilbert onto the couch in the living room. Before he could do anything else, however, a voice drifted out from somewhere in the back of the house.

"Frederick, honey, is that you?"

He made a face that Bree didn't notice as she sashayed her way into the small room. She was sticking around now because she thought herself in _love_ with him, though he couldn't care less, of course; his thoughts were all about Elena and how to make her his again, but Bree didn't know that. Besides, she had her uses, he guessed. Like now.

Bree glanced over at Elena, who was sitting ramrod-straight on the couch staring straight ahead and her face soured. "Why is she here?" she demanded of Frederick, giving him the evil eye. He shrugged, glancing over at Elena again; she hadn't changed.

"Katherine wants her," he lied. Bree wouldn't know the difference. "But she's under compulsion from another vampire, I think. Isn't there some sort of spell for that?"

Bree, still put out, rolled her eyes at him. _"Isn't there some sort of spell for that?" _ she mimicked, then stopped short, her air cut off by Frederick's hand around her neck, squeezing, squeezing. He brought his face right up close to hers.

"Want to try again?" he asked softly. She nodded frantically, eyes wide, and he let go of her so abruptly she almost fell down, but she managed to stay upright, massaging her neck and coughing a little. Frederick didn't bother to ask if she was okay. She was. Besides, the sick bitch _liked_ being manhandled, big as she was. Sure enough, when she looked back at him there was a grudging subservient look in her eyes – along with a perverted gleam of excitement.

"I know of some," Bree replied sulkily, and he nodded. That was better. She walked over to Elena and kneeled down in front of her so they were at eye level, but then her eyes were drawn down to a ring on her hand and she scowled.

"What?" Frederick grunted, and Bree shook her head, reaching over and sliding the ring off Elena's finger none too gently, dropping it onto the carpet like it was hot.

"That ring was spelled," she explained, wiping her hand on her jeans and making a face at it. Then she refocused on Elena's face, making eye contact with the girl, holding her chin and chanting some words. Frederick stood over them, watching, thought he couldn't tell what the hell the witch was saying; it was all Greek to him. After a few moments, Elena closed her eyes, whimpering, trying to yank her face out of Bree's grip, but Bree held fast and kept chanting, until Elena's whole body shuddered and she gasped like someone had punched her in the stomach, her eyes widening, and then she sat back on the couch, blinking like she had just woken up out of a deep sleep which, Frederick mused, she kind of had. It took her a second to realize where she was and who she was with, and she shrank back against the couch, eyes skittering from Bree to him. He smiled at her widely.

"Why, _hello,"_ he greeted her. Her face drained of color and she sat perfectly still, eyes darting between the two of them. Bree reared back and stood up, towering over the girl on the couch.

"Welcome back, baby," she drawled to Elena, sauntering over to Frederick and, placing a possessive hand on his chest, leaning in for a kiss. Frederick dodged the move, pushing Bree away.

"Not now," he growled, eyes fixed on Elena. Bree's eyes narrowed dangerously, but she backed off, sulkily moving to stand next to him. Just then, Elena's eyes dropped to her left hand and flared slightly, then spied the red gleam on the carpet next to her feet. As she reached down to retrieve her ring, Frederick ambled on over and stole it right out from under her fingers. He held it up to the light, pretending to admire it, then lowered his gaze to glare at Elena, who was actually glaring right back at him! He loved it.

"What's this? A present from one of your admirers? From a _Salvatore,_ perhaps?" He leered at her, and thought she moved even farther back into the couch, she maintained eye contact with him.

"Give it back," she ordered, and Frederick marveled at the sheer audacity of this human girl; though he could see she was visibly trembling, her voice was strong. He shook his head at her as he enveloped the small ruby ring in his hand, clenching it into a fist, and then opening it to dump the tiny, tiny sparkling powdery fragments onto the floor.

"No," he told her, and watched her expressive brown eyes flicker with emotion before he moved to stand in front of her, grabbing her arm and hauling her up to her feet. He smiled right into her pretty face – ah! now he could _smell_ her fear! – and whispered, "You're mine, now."

_"What?" _exclaimed Bree, who was still standing behind him. He sighed mightily, rolling his eyes before turning around, Elena still in his grasp. Bree was standing with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes as she gazed angrily at Frederick.

"You want her for _yourself_, don't you?" she accused. "Katherine probably doesn't even know she's here! Well, when I call her to tell her what's going on – " She reached into the back pocket of her jeans, withdrawing a small silver cell phone and flipping it open; in the blink of an eye Frederick had dropped Elena back onto the couch, crossed the room, and ripped the phone out of Bree's hand, flinging it across the room. As she gaped at him, he snarled right in her face, "Don't be stupid if you want to live."

She snorted, looking at him as if he were an ant crawling on the ground. "Do you know who I am, sugar? Do you know what I can _do?_ I -"

Bree hadn't even finished her sentence before Frederick reached out, his hand a blur, and ripped her protective necklace from her neck, hissing in pain as it burned his palm, dropping it to the floor. Before Bree could react, he had vamped out, arms closing around her painfully, and buried his fangs in her neck, drinking his fill until he had drained her dry.

"Stupid useless bitch," he muttered as he opened his embrace to let her husk of a body drop lifelessly to the floor. There was a small sound from behind him, and he turned around. Elena had made it over to the door and was yanking on the doorknob, opening the door slightly – then Frederick's hand shoved it closed again. She turned around and he was mere inches away, blood dripping from his mouth and eyes shining manically as he smiled at her, and she screamed until she had no voice left.

Damon swam up to consciousness, feeling like he had been at the very bottom of a fiery lake for a very long time. As he cracked open his eyes, a face was hovering over him, blurry at first. Damon blinked a few times, and finally was able to focus on his brother, who was gazing down at him with a look of concern.

"Damon?" he asked in a low tone. "Damon, can you hear me?"

Damon shook his head a few times, trying to clear the fog out of his head. "Of _course _I can hear you, dipshit." He sat up slowly, wincing at the pins-and-needles sensation shooting through his limbs, and looked around; he was in his own bed, upstairs in the boarding house, and Stefan was leaning over him. He reached up and pushed his brother away a few feet.

"That's better," he grunted. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

Stefan made a rude sound. "I – I missed Elena; I realized I made a mistake by leaving her," he explained as he picked something up from the night table and held it out to his brother; blood in a glass, with a straw. Damon accepted the glass, picking out the straw like it was dirty and tossing it onto the floor, then downing the contents in one gulp like medicine, feeling better, stronger, the minute the blood hit his stomach. He looked around the room again, then back at Stefan.

"Where _is _ Elena?" he asked, then as the words came out of his mouth he remembered, like the blood had been a catalyst for his memories to surface…Elena all moody…sitting in front of the fire he had built for her…_Elena bringing him a drink…._Damon's eyes flew open wide.

_Elena had poisoned him? _Elena?

"Elena's home, studying for a math test tomorrow," Stefan prattled on, unaware of the dark epiphany his brother was experiencing. "You were lying in front of the fireplace half-dead when I came home. I hauled you up here and force-fed you some blood so you would have an easier time of it, but I think you drank from somebody who ingested vervain." He shook his head like a parent scolding his child. "You should be more careful."

Damon sat straight up, reached over, and fisted his hand in Stefan's shirt, drawing him closer. "Did you just say that Elena's _home? _ She's not _here?"_

Stefan shook his head. "No, and it's a good thing she wasn't, because you would have scared her if she walked in on you like that." He frowned reprovingly. "And you could have burned the house down."

Damon gaped at his brother like he had just said he had grown wings and could fly._ "How the fuck long have I been out?"_

Stefan shrugged, which was kind of hard, seeing as how Damon had the grip of death on him. "Two days."

Damon's suddenly nerveless fingers let go of Stefan, and he stood back up, absently smoothing down his shirt as he looked at Damon with a speculative gaze.

"Stefan," Damon said very slowly, "Stefan, Elena was the one who gave me the vervain. She mixed it into a drink that she gave to me right here in_ front of the fucking fireplace!"_ By the time he had reached the end of the sentence, he was roaring. Stefan looked at him strangely.

"Damon, are you sure the vervain's out of your system? Because you must be hallucinating," Stefan scoffed, turning away as if to leave the room. "I'll come back later to check on you."

Damon was out of the bed and standing in front of his brother before Stefan could take another step. "I'm not hallucinating," he said in a very quiet, very deadly voice, enunciating each word. "Elena gave me the fucking vervain. That's the last thing I remember – I drank the whiskey she gave me and then I thought I was on goddamn _fire_ before I blacked out." He reached out and grasped Stefan's shirt again, this time with both hands, and shook him slightly. "Now I wake up, you're suddenly back from freaking Timbuktu or wherever you went –"

"New Zealand," Stefan supplied helpfully. "I went to New Zealand."

"Whatever, you dickhead," Damon growled. "So you show back up out of the blue from fucking _New Zealand, _and you tell me that Elena's at home like nothing even _happened?_ What the hell is going _on_ here?"

Stefan broke Damon's grip, backing up a few steps, keeping a wary eye on his brother like he was a caged lion who hadn't been fed. "Damon, do you want to come with me to see for yourself? I'm going to Elena's right now to help her study."

Damon's mouth opened and closed like he was a fish out of water; he was utterly speechless. Stefan took the opportunity to slip around him, turning around when he was in the doorway.

"You should have some more blood," he told Damon. "Maybe it will clear your head. I'll see you later; I'm going to Elena's."

"Wait," Damon said suddenly, turning around to face Stefan. "Wait – she didn't _tell_ you?" But Stefan was gone, already downstairs and out the door. Damon stared at the empty doorway for a minute, feeling like his world had turned upside down, and then sat down heavily on the bed, a million thoughts racing through his mind.


	28. Chapter 28

His brain practically _bursting_ with a strange mix of anger and curiosity, Damon dressed in his usual black and hotfooted it over to Elena's, a thousand questions in his mind. _What should I start with? _he wondered as he neared the house. _Why the hell did you poison me? Did you just leave me to die in my own house? Hey, did you tell your boyfriend we're together, because he apparently missed the news flash?_

He reached the house, but before he could even get up the walk the front door opened and Stefan and everybody's favorite Locusta walked out, laughing at some nonsense, Damon was sure. He met them as they were tra-la-la-ing their way down the walkway, giving Elena in particular the once-over with his eyes. Remarkably, she looked – fine. Dandy, even, as she clasped her hands behind her back. Like she hadn't poured vervain into his_ fucking Scotch _and handed it over like it was no big deal.

"Why, _hello,"_ he said with faux cheer, unknowingly uttering the very words Frederick had spoken to the _real_ Elena two days prior. "I hope I'm not interrupting your little reunion! Oh, wait," Damon interrupted himself, smacking his forehead. "That's right, you already had that two days ago, after I was poisoned by vervain and all." He glared right at Elena, who had the good graces to look abashed. Stefan's brows drew together and he opened his mouth, but Damon continued on full speed ahead. "I'm not sure what's going on, either, but Stefan, didn't Elena tell you what's been going on while you were off having your little breakdown, but Elena and I are together. Like, _together_ together. Well, we _were,_ anyway, before she went all _Flowers in the Attic_ on me." He shot a fury-filled glare at his little Arsenic Annie, who looked down at the sidewalk, a typical embarrassed-Elena move if he ever saw one. "How could you?" he said to her, forgetting for a moment that Stefan was even there, so great was his fury, but there was also a horrible, horrible sense of betrayal as well, on so many levels. "What's _wrong_ with you? Why would you put _vervain_ in my drink? I don't understand, Elena, help me out here." But Elena remained maddeningly silent. Damon felt like shaking an answer out of her as if she was some sort of magic 8-ball, but he restrained himself.

Stefan looked from Elena to his brother and back again as if following a tennis match. "What are you saying, Damon? That you and Elena – " he made a face, "were – were – " Now they were both staring angrily at Elena, who continued to make very intense eye contact with the walkway. Damon shook his head, his insides churning and his head pounding.

"You know what? It's not worth it," he said in a voice that sounded dead. "I thought I had finally found something that was worth sacrifice, that was worth hardship, something I had been looking for all my life – " He broke off bitterly, looking at Elena, who had finally raised her head to meet his burning gaze, an unreadable look on her beautiful face. I was wrong. I was _very, very_ wrong. I won't make that mistake again."

He turned to go, but Elena's voice stopped him.

"Damon, I – I'm so sorry, I thought it was something else," she said in a low voice. He turned back around slowly, giving her an incredulous look.

"What the fuck did you think it _was,_ Elena?" he asked. "What the hell do you _put_ into whiskey, anyway? It ain't no _Sex and the City_ cosmo!" He took a step towards her. "I thought I was dying, Elena, and you just _left me there?_ Did you have something more_ important_ to do?_" _

She shook her head, looking lost with her hands shoved into her jacket pockets, and Stefan stepped in between Damon and Elena with a confused yet determined expression on his face. Damon rolled his eyes. _Oh, here we go, Saint Stefan the Protector riding to the rescue,_ he thought._ No matter that you were fucking _out of here_ the day after she was attacked. No matter that we made what I _thought _was love._

_No matter that I – _

"I loved you, Elena," he gritted out between his teeth, completely ignoring Prince Stefan, who was frowning now at his brother. Damon took a step toward her, for the life of him not knowing why. "I _loved_ you. Do you understand what that _means?_" He let out an explosive breath, feeling like what passed for his heart was now nothing but smoldering cinders and a hell of a lot of ash. "But if I can't for the life of me comprehend what the hell you did, at least I'm not that fucking stupid to stay where I'm not wanted." He glanced over at Stefan. "Dude, I'm blowing this Popsicle stand. You can have her." He turned away, finally, finally done with everything, done with his brother, done with _her._ "Just get your own damned drinks, huh?"

He walked away at a regular human pace, defeated, dead inside, frozen like the Arctic, hollow like a reed, not heeding his brother's call for him to _come back, Damon, let's talk about this._ From Elena – there was nothing. Nothing at all.

Just like the void in his chest where his heart had once resided.

Elena, unlike Damon, had been awake for much of the previous forty-eight hours, locked up in the cottage's spare room, which Frederick had quickly turned into her prison cell. She was allowed out a few times a day to use the bathroom, mercifully, but the other two times she had been out she had to stay cuffed to Frederick – _God only knows where he got these freaking handcuffs from,_ she thought in disgust – and pretend to be his loving, doting soulmate. He forced her to sit on his lap for hours the first time while he had brushed and brushed her long hair until she thought it was going to come right out at the roots, and he had _talked_ to her about all the things they were going to do together. Surprisingly, Frederick had some normal, mundane ideas, such as taking a cruise to South America –_good luck with the sun down there, buddy,_ she had thought, but didn't dare say a word – and traveling to his hometown, a tiny place in Maryland. The second time, Frederick had brought takeout to the cottage and they had eaten it together in the miniscule dining room. He had found two white tapered candles, which he had promptly lit and thunked into holders, and had even brought her _roses_, presenting them to her almost shyly. It was a complete one-eighty from that horrific time in the basement with him, and Elena got the sick feeling that he was actually trying to _court_ her, like it was the 1860s all over again and she was his Southern belle of choice. _At least he's not trying to rape me again,_ she thought gratefully as she managed to get down a forkful of fried rice. She would need energy when she tried to escape from this _Jerry Springer_ episode. How she would manage that she wasn't sure yet, but if an opportunity ever arose she wanted to be on her game.

Sometimes Elena wondered what the hell had gone on before she had come here, because Meredith telling her she was a vampire back in her room was the last thing she remembered. She tried not to think of Damon, at least not during the day. That was reserved for the blackest hours of night, when Frederick was out finding hapless victims to suck dry. Only then did she let herself cry and beg God to please let Damon find her, even though her ring was dust, _please, Damon, come for me…_but God was apparently on vacation somewhere, because nobody came to set her free.

Well, one person came, but setting Elena free was the farthest thing from her mind.

In the early dawn hours of her third day as Frederick's prisoner, Elena was sitting on the floor of her room when she heard a feminine voice speaking in the living room and Frederick answering. Though the cottage was small, the walls and doors were thick, and though she strained her ears Elena couldn't make out any words. She pressed her ear up against the door, but suddenly the talking stopped and her door opened; Elena stumbled back in surprise, looking up to see Katherine standing in front of her, Frederick hovering behind like her taller, goateed shadow.

"Elena," Katherine purred, smiling at her. "Imagine my surprise when I never received a call from Michael at the institution I had all picked out and ready for you in California. It took some doing, but I finally tracked you down here, staying as Frederick's valued guest." She tilted her head, studying her great-granddaughter, who had fixed her with an angry stare. "You look good – he must be feeding you. How nice."

_What is she _talking_ about, California? An institution? _"Let me _out_ of here," Elena growled, not sounding like herself at all, sounding more like an animal. "I want to go_ home." _

Katherine snorted delicately, shaking her head as she came closer. "Now, really, that isn't going to happen and you know it. You're a smart girl – you must have figured this all out by now." She idly twisted a skein of hair around her index finger. "I want to take my place as Damon and Stefan's one true love once again, and let's face it, you were never any _real_ competition for me." Katherine gave Elena the once-over, letting her eyes wander Elena's face and body insolently. "It's easy to replace you – it's _impossible_ to replace me."

"I never wanted to _be_ you," Elena retorted, her insides feeling like someone was clenching them in his fist, but trying desperately not to let that on. This was Katherine, after all, and while Meredith had said Katherine didn't want to hurt her, Elena trusted that about as far as she could throw the blonde vampire. "It's not like I even knew they _existed_ until Stefan came back to Mystic Falls, and then he pursued _me."_

Katherine raised one silky dark eyebrow. "And Damon?"

Elena hesitated, which made Katherine give her a knowing look. "You see? You can't resist them any more than I ever could." She narrowed her eyes. "Which is why you're going to stay here with Frederick, who seems to – _care_ for you, at least. Maybe this is better for you than that dratted institution, after all." She actually _winked_ at Elena. "Here you'll get more – _one on one_ attention, shall we say?"

Elena shook her head slowly in disbelief. "How can you even say that?" she demanded. "Don't you know what he _did_ to me?"

Katherine shrugged a narrow shoulder. "I'm sure he was just overcome by your beauty and forgot himself." She smirked. "You're a _Pierce_, after all."

Elena's legs started to shake and she sat down with a thump on the bed, which had been right behind her. "I can't believe this. You can't possibly think people will believe you're me forever – that_ Stefan and Damon_ will believe you're me forever."

Katherine smiled knowingly. "Actually, dear heart, they already do. Stefan – " she raised a hand languidly, "Stefan was _very_ convinced I was you last night, and Damon, well, he'll come around in time." She grinned wickedly, showing Elena lots of white, white teeth. "I have plans for him tonight, as a matter of fact."

_Oh, God…_Elena played the last card she held, hoping beyond hope – "I'm your _granddaughter,"_ she cried, purposely leaving off all the greats. "Doesn't that mean _anything_ to you?"

Katherine sighed, and abruptly she was standing directly in front of Elena, looming above her as Elena was still sitting on the mattress. Elena froze, hardly daring to breathe, as Katherine reached out slowly and touched her cheek, smoothing a stray lock of hair from her cheek, an unreadable expression on her face.

"That's why I haven't killed you," she whispered. Then as rapidly as she had appeared, she was gone, leaving Frederick in the doorway alone. He gave Elena a suggestive leer before closing and locking the door again, leaving her alone in her prison, the sound of the bolt sliding home echoing in her brain.

Later that evening Damon lay on his bed with nothing on but a pair of boxer briefs and one lone dim lamp, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about how his life, which had been full and rich with love just a few days ago, had suddenly taken this horrible, unthinkable turn. Stefan had never come back to the boarding house after their little confrontation. _He's probably all curled up in Elena's bed, _ran through Damon's mind, complete with a slideshow of just what could happen in Elena's bed…He squeezed his eyes shut, growling in agony. Maybe it was time to leave this place…travel to France, or Russia, or freaking_ New Zealand_, he thought sarcastically. Anywhere was preferable to here, where he would see Elena and Stefan together on a regular basis…see Elena laughing at some stupid thing Stefan had said…watch them hold hands in the great room….hear them making love in Stefan's room…_stop it, Damon! _his mind screamed at him. _This is getting you exactly nowhere, asshole. Just pack some stuff and get in the fucking car and _drive.

Yet he lay on his bed, not moving, the thumb on his left hand idly spinning the silver ring on his finger; he still hadn't taken it off. It was torture, really.

And then Elena came.

Damon heard her open the front door and stealthily make her way up the stairs, tiptoeing down the hallway. He closed his eyes for a moment, he didn't know why, maybe to get his shit together before he saw her again, and then there she was in his doorway, looking very unsure of herself, and yet there she stood. He didn't bother to get up, just raised a cynical eyebrow at her.

"Get tired of vanilla already, honey?" he asked in a cruel tone. "Want a taste of chocolate? Well, too damn bad." He threw a pillow at her, missing his mark by inches. "Get the fuck out, Elena. You have your Salvatore brother. You don't need another one."

Elena just stood there, gazing at him, and he couldn't get a read on her, couldn't tell what was going on in that manipulative little brain of hers. "Didn't you hear me? I said _leave."_ He smirked nastily at her. _"Now. _Before things get ugly."

"You could never be ugly, Damon," she remarked, walking into his room. Now she was only a few feet away from his massive king-size bed. "You're quite beautiful."

_What?_ He rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Well, you're about to see just how ugly I can get, if you don't turn your sweet little ass around and take it outside. Preferably to Antarctica."

Elena took a few more steps, which brought her to the foot of his bed. He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at her. _She had nerve_, he mused. Too bad. She had taken his heart, his whole heart, and stomped on it. With both feet. In heels. He had nothing left. And yet…just seeing her again, so close, so beautiful, made his stomach hurt. _Maybe I should have her give me more vervain_, he thought. _Maybe that will snap me out of this, this _longing_ I still have for her._

"Will you ever forgive me, Damon?" she asked sweetly. "Will you let me – make it up to you?" She reached up and unzipped her leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor. The shirt came next, so she was standing in front of him in nothing but her jeans and pink lace bra. She smiled hesitantly at him when she saw that he was looking at her, and that made him scowl and turn his gaze back onto the ceiling.

"Go peddle your wares somewhere else," he muttered. "Been there, done that, remember?"

She shook her head, unzipping her jeans and stepping out of them. He braved a quick glance. _Panties match, _an irrelevant little voice in Damon's mind told him helpfully. He shook his head hard, then steeled himself and sat up, glaring at her as she climbed on the bed and stopped a foot away from him.

"Elena, I'm not fucking around," he said forcefully. "You need to leave, _now,_ or I'm going to throw you out." He let his upper lip curl up so she could see his teeth. "And maybe worse."

Elena looked totally unfazed. "Damon, I still want to be with you," she informed him. "Stefan doesn't have to know – "

"Are you suggesting we _share _you?" he interrupted viciously, feeling his skin crawl. _"Do you know what you're saying?" _

Elena hastily shook her head, stumbling over her words. "No, no, Damon, not like before! I mean – I love you, too, different than Stefan – "

Damon was up and off the bed before she had even finished his brother's name. He grabbed her shoulders, hauled her off his bed, turned her around and shoved her none too gently towards the door. As she stared at him, openmouthed, he scooped up her clothes and threw them out the door into the hallway. Then he turned to her, breathing hard though in reality he had expended little effort, feeling his eyes widen, his vision take on a red tinge, his fangs lengthen.

"Don't ever come back here again," he told her in a voice so quiet it was way scarier than if he had shouted the words at her. "You're little better than a whore."

Elena huffed out her breath, then turned without a word and left. He watched as she picked up her clothes, listened as she walked down the hallway, then back down the stars, listened as she dressed in the greatroom, and then went back out the front door, slamming it good and hard as she did so. The whole time, he just stood there in the middle of his room, that numb, hollow, aching feeling back in the pit of his stomach again. He looked down at his silver ring, then with a muttered, vicious curse he took it off and threw it across the room, hearing it ping off something and then rattle on the floor.


	29. Chapter 29

Elena had totally had enough of being locked up with Frederick the Romantic Kidnapper. When he had brought her out that night for dinner (which was roughly the same time that Katherine had unsuccessfully tried to seduce Damon), he had brushed his hand over her breast as he was handcuffing her to him. She had looked up at him to see him staring at her lustfully. It had taken all her strength not to cringe away from him as he reached out and did it again. Then he had ripped half the buttons off her shirt so he could see her bra, and his eyes darkened even more. She had spoken up quickly then, a half-formed idea beginning to take shape in her mind.

"No, not like this, Frederick," she told him. _God, just staying his name makes me want to throw up. _"Don't you want it to be – special?" She forced herself to smile at him. His face went totally blank for a minute, and then lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Tonight," he breathed, eyes running eagerly over her body. She felt the weight of his gaze and forced herself not to shudder. He uncuffed her suddenly, pushing her back into the room, shirt gaping open.

"I have to go to town and get some things," Frederick told her, but she shook her head. _I need to get the hell out of this room and find something wooden… he's right, it's tonight, tonight that I either escape or kill myself, because he is _not_ touching me again…_these thoughts were running in a steady stream through Elena's mind, and she smiled at him once again.

"I'll be here when you get back," she cooed at him, hating herself, her stomach in knots, and he smiled at her, actually _smiled,_ before closing the door and, of course, locking it again. She stared at the door for a minute, hearing his footsteps fade as he sped away…_he locks it with a key and uses a padlock,_ she thought to herself, _no getting out that way. _She then turned and contemplated the window, which he had actually fixed with steel bars that he had brought back from town the first night she had stayed there. _That _had been no fun, she recalled; until that had been accomplished, she had been handcuffed to a strong iron pipe in the basement. The room itself held a metal bed frame, mattress and pillow, some books that Frederick had tossed to her on her second day in captivity, a chest of drawers though she had no clothes (made out of some weird IKEA laminate, no real wood there), and nothing else. Letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, her eyes then turned to the miniscule closet, which didn't have a helpful wooden door, just a long white curtain held up by a metal (of course) curtain rod. She had inspected in there on her first night; all it held were a few plastic hangars. There seemed to be nothing she could use to escape….

_Wait a minute._ She ran to the closet, shoving the curtain aside and looking at the curtain rod that the three or four plastic hangars rode on…

_It's wood. _She touched the surface gingerly, and then grabbed it, hauling it off its supports and out of the closet. She hefted it in her hand; it was weighty and had to be at least four or five inches in diameter, and roughly a yard long.

For the first time in days, Elena began to hope.

If Damon had been in a snit when Elena had shown up, he was now in a full-fledged _tantrum_, which had started with him chucking his silver ring and continued with sweeping everything that had been on his dresser off onto the floor. Now he was ensconced on a sofa in the great room, still in his boxer briefs, systematically lobbing crystal decanters across the great room at the wall. Each time he hit an impossibly valuable painting he gave himself two points and took a shot of bourbon. Occasionally he would mutter to himself as he did so, things like, "…thought she _loved _me," and "I'm a fucking _fool,_" and his all-time favorite, "_Stefan_, that fucking puss." He also couldn't get that image of Elena offering herself up to him out of his mind…how could she _do _that? How could she even suggest that they share her like she was some sort of fucking _toy_ and they were the mindless _children_ they had been back in 1864?

Damon was up to eight points and still mumbling to himself when there was a knock at the door. He stopped dead, one decanter still in hand, and listened fiercely. After a few minutes the knock sounded again, and he let out an explosive breath, getting to his feet and crossing the room in a flash.

"This better not be Little Miss Seduction again," he muttered to himself as he reached the door and turned the knob. Who he _did_ see threw him for a loop, indeed.

Standing there, looking very unsure of herself and maybe even a little bit scared, was Meredith.

Damon blinked, wondering if he was having some sort of drunken hallucination, but Meredith was still there, now looking even more uncomfortable since he hadn't even said anything to her yet. _Well, too bad. _

"Can I help you?" he bit out, giving her the onceover with very unfriendly eyes. "Isn't it a little too late for Girl Scout cookies?"

The nervous blonde girl shook her head, fixing him with those unnerving eyes, the color of the uniform he had worn to fight in the War Between the States. "I need to tell you something," she said, speaking quickly and glancing back over her shoulder. "But you have to let me in first." When Damon hesitated – he _so_ was not in the mood for female company – she said all in a rush, "Please, it's about Elena."

If he had hesitated before, _that _froze him to the floor. He tried to speak, but his vocal cords weren't working. Again, the girl looked around in apprehension, and a part of his brain that was still working wondered what she was so nervous about. Unable to make his voice work properly, he opened the door wider and stepped aside. Meredith wasted no time in hurrying inside, and he closed the door behind her. As he turned to face her, she suddenly vamped out. He almost dropped the crystal decanter he was still holding onto like an idiot.

_What the –_"You're a fucking _vampire?"_ he croaked.

Meredith nodded, face returning to normal in a split-second. "Katherine is my friend from the Revolution," she said all in a rush, her words tripping over each other in her haste to get them out. "She had me compel Elena to slip vervain into your drink and then walk away, to be picked up and flown out to California where she was going to spend the rest of her life on powerful drugs in some sort of mental institution. Katherine had it all set up."

Damon just started at her, the crystal decanter finally giving up the fight and slipping to the floor from his suddenly nerveless fingers. When it shattered he didn't even flinch, just kept his eyes on the blonde vampire, who now that she had started talking, couldn't seem to stop. "I had to do it, you see, I had to compel her…first it was just as a favor to Katherine, but then it became something else entirely…when I fell in love with Jeremy." Meredith winced. "She threatened to kill him if I didn't carry out my task."

He took a step toward her, and the look on his face must have been something terrible to behold, he thought absently, because even though she was older than him by a good eighty years or so, she backed right up. Before he could even ask, she was talking again, the words spilling out of her.

"But Elena never showed up, never met the car that was waiting to take her to the airport…I didn't know that until I heard Katherine talking on her cell phone, asking about her, tonight when she came back from seeing you." She made a face. "She was angry about something, and gave Stefan the cold shoulder even, telling him to leave her alone before storming up to Elena's room and placing the call."

"Katherine," Damon said slowly, a thousand things zipping through his brain at lightning speed. "Katherine took Elena's place…." He flashed back to the afternoon he had been poisoned. _Had Elena been wearing her necklace?_ He didn't think so, now that he thought about it. And when he had seen her the first time, after he had woken up and confronted her and Stefan, she had been very careful not to say much, _and to keep her hands in her pockets…_ Damon strode up to Meredith, gripping her shoulders in his hands and putting his face right up close to hers. _She looks afraid of me_, he noted. _Good._

"Did you take her necklace and her ring?" he asked impatiently. She started to nod, then shook her head violently.

"We knew about her necklace, but I don't know about any ring," she replied. He shook his head; that was bad news if he wanted to find _his_ Elena, so the most important thing was –

"Where's Elena _right now?" _he asked, shaking her a little. _"Where is she?"_

Meredith shook her head again, her gray eyes round in her delicate face. "I'm really not sure. All I know is that she's not in California, and I heard Katherine talking about her tonight with someone named Frederick."

Nothing Meredith had said up until this point had affected Damon quite like her last words had. He felt like his veins had turned to ice before her lips had even finished forming the last syllable of that asshole's name. "_Frederick?_ Are you sure she said _Frederick?"_ he yelled right into her face, and she flinched as his grip tightened on her shoulders but nodded frantically. He let her go abruptly, and she backed up right into the wall, keeping her eyes on him warily.

"Bitch…that _fucking bitch,_" Damon hissed, feeling his fangs lengthen and his vision turn blood-red again. "I'm going to _end_ her." A thought occurred to him just then, an awful terrible thought, and he turned back to Meredith. "Does _Stefan _know? Does he know she's not Elena?"

Meredith shook her head; she was starting to remind him of one of those stupid fucking bobbleheads that idiot people liked to put on their dashboards. "No, not that I can see. She has him totally snowed. In fact, I – " she blushed, "I think they've been sleeping together."

"I'm sure they have," Damon mumbled sarcastically. He whirled, racing upstairs and coming back in a matter of seconds, holding a shirt and a pair of jeans. Hastily, while Meredith watched, he dressed and flung open the foyer closet, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes and shrugging on his leather jacket. Then he turned to her, and she pressed her back against the wall again, so scary was his face, but the words that came out next weren't what she was prepared for.

"Why did you tell me?" he asked. She let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding.

"You love her," she said simply. "You love her, as I love Jeremy, and the whole plan was wrong."

He considered that, and her, for a brief second before turning to the front door. "Come on," he said. "We're going to pay the lovebirds a little _visit."_

When Damon and Meredith showed up at Elena's house, Meredith hesitated outside. Damon turned to her impatiently.

"What are you _doing?" _he asked impatiently. "Come _on." _But she only shook her head, casting a frightened look at the house, dark now in the late hours of the night.

"I…I don't want Katherine to know I betrayed her," she whispered. "She'll rip my throat out, and that's just for starters."

Damon rolled his eyes, reaching out and yanking Meredith to him. "_I'll_ rip your throat out if you don't come with me," he told her in a perfectly serious voice. "Now let's_ go."_

Silently, faster than lightning, they were up the side of the house, at Elena's window, and then inside her room. Stefan and that dirty whore Katherine were sitting on Elena's bed, in the middle of some serious making out. Damon reasoned that was why his brother hadn't heard him and Meredith come in. Katherine, however, was a different story; she was slow to turn to them, and even though her friend was with Damon, she smiled at them both, playing her role to the hilt.

"What are you guys doing here?" she asked, turning back to Stefan. "Did you know your brother was coming to visit?" Stefan shook his head, eyeing Damon suspiciously. Damon smirked.

"I see you two made up," he commented darkly.

"What do you want, Damon?" Stefan asked, eyes cutting over to Katherine. "Elena and I – "

"That's not _Elena_, you hopeless fucking moron, that's _Katherine," _Damon cut in, blurring over and yanking Katherine away from his idiot brother. She tumbled harmlessly to the carpet, back up on her feet in the tiniest fraction of a second and glaring at Damon hatefully. In that instant, she looked nothing like Elena. _How the fuck did I screw _that_ one up_, Damon thought to himself as he gazed at her. _Elena's eyes could never be that cold, that empty._

"You're going to tell me where you stashed Elena," he informed her in a deadly voice, "and you're going to tell me _now." _

Katherine actually laughed. "Or what?" she taunted. "What are you _really_ going to do to me, Damon? I'm older and stronger than you. I _made_ you." She flicked a look at Stefan, who had risen to his feet and was now standing by Damon and Meredith, looking betrayed. "And _you._" Katherine turned her malicious gaze to Meredith, eyes darkening slightly. "You _told_ him? Couldn't keep your mouth shut?" She shook her head. "Always had a taste for the melodrama, didn't you," she sneered. Meredith remained silent, looking deeply unhappy.

"Katherine, what you're doing isn't _right,"_ she started to explain, but Katherine only laughed bitterly.

"No, what isn't right is that little meddling _brat_ interfering where she doesn't belong," she hissed, eyes taking on a tinge of red. "She shouldn't have involved herself with what's _mine." _

Damon snorted in disbelief. "With what's _yours? _Didn't you kind of _abandon_ us? You let my brother and I think you were trapped underground in that fucking tomb for over _one hundred and forty years,_ while you were gallivanting all over the globe." He regarded Katherine in wonder. "I did a lot of bad things for you, Katherine, and you _so_ weren't worth it."

Katherine huffed out a breath as she directed her gaze at Stefan, who was still looking very uncertain, shifting his gaze back and forth between Katherine and his brother. "I still have _you_ in my corner, don't I?" she purred, sauntering over to him and placing her hand on his chest. "We had a special time last night, didn't we, lover?" She narrowed her eyes at him like a dangerous tigress, even though she had a smile on her face. "I noticed you still have my portrait."

Damon noted with disgust that his imbecile brother made no move to push that bitch's hand off him, but at least he did reply, "What we had was special, Katherine, but you need to tell us where Elena is."

"Do you want to know where she is, Stefan?" Damon said menacingly, reaching out and pushing Katherine back, away from his brother and back onto the bed. "She's with Frederick; remember him, the scumbag who _raped her?_ Seems that Katherine's plans went awry and instead of having Elena disappear _after she was compelled to poison me_ – " he tossed a dirty look at Meredith over his shoulder, "Elena somehow ended up with Frederick, God only knows where." He moved to stand in front of Katherine as he removed a wooden stake from his interior jacket pocket – the very same stake Stefan had shoved into his gut after the whole Lexi incident. "And she's going to tell us where Elena is, or we're going to hurt her." He leered down at her. "And we're going to _take our time."_

Katherine stood up in a blur, facing Damon down. "I don't have to tell you _shit," _she snarled, curling her upper lip so they could see her sharp fangs. "You'll _never_ find out where your precious Elena is, and you'll _never_ see me coming next time." Then she was gone in a breeze, out the window before anybody could stop her, she was that fast.

Damon went after her, almost making it to the window, but Meredith suddenly appeared in front of him and he slammed on the brakes. "She left her purse here," she told him rapidly, pointing to Elena's dresser. Sure enough, there was a stylish bag sitting right there. "Maybe her cell phone's in it." Damon was on it in the blink of an eye, triumphantly grabbing the phone and hastily scrolling through it to the last call placed. Before he could dial the number, however, Meredith grabbed the phone out of his hand.

"Hey- " Damon protested, but she hit the dial icon and placed a finger to her lips, shushing him like a schoolteacher. "Hello?" she said into the phone, sounding exactly like Katherine. "Frederick, I'm thinking about paying you another visit, see how things are getting on." Silence for a few seconds, then, "Alright, that sounds good, but I can't use my normal route; I think Damon and Stefan are curious as to where I disappear off to." Another pause, and then Meredith shot Damon a grin. "That sounds perfect, you're a doll. I'll see you in a little while." She clicked the phone closed in triumph.

"Where is she?" Damon asked immediately, and Meredith smiled again.

"Not too far away, less than ten miles from the boarding house in the Old Wood…come on, I'll take us there," she said, turning towards the window. Damon was right behind her, but he paused before he took the final leap out and turned around. Stefan wasn't right behind him; he was still standing by Elena's bed and staring down at it, an unreadable look on his face. Damon rolled his eyes, going back and hauling his brother away and towards the window with him.

"Let's go, dickhead," he growled, marching him over to and out the window. "You might actually come in handy."


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note: This is the last chapter of **_**The Triangle,**_** and it's been a great ride! Thank you all again, ****very much****, for your generous comments and reviews. Please keep your eyes out for the sequel – **_**The Tempest!**_

Elena had managed to snap the tip of the wooden closet rod off, leaving her with a jagged multi-pronged spear that she fully intended to impale Frederick on like a fish. It had been roughly half an hour since he had left, Elena figured, and he rarely left her alone for more than an hour. She positioned herself by the door to her cell and waited impatiently for him to return. While she lay in wait she ran her plan through over and over; it was simple, really – he was going to open the door, expecting a compliant Elena, but as soon as that door opened she was going for center mass and she was going hard. Her hands were shaking; she kept trying to firm them up on her makeshift weapon as she stared at the door.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Elena heard the front door open and close quickly, and she braced herself, sending up a quick prayer to God, Damon's face flashing before her eyes – if this failed, she would surely die, and just thinking about never seeing him again hurt her heart – and then she pushed everything out of her mind, focused on her door, and waited.

She didn't have long.

Frederick was at her cell door almost immediately, opening the padlock and then keying the lock in the doorknob, and entering her room. She had kept her room dark on purpose, figuring any advantage was a good one, and gripping the long stake in both hands, took two running steps and drove the stake home in his chest. He grunted in pain and shock, toppling over backwards into the narrow hallway, and she went with him like a lumberjack felling a tree, all the while pushing down, down, on the stake, trying to shove it right through his hateful body and into the floor.

Frederick's eyes whirled crazily in his head as his skin started to gray, and he pushed her with both hands; even though he was dying, he was still super strong. She flew back, her head hitting the wall, and he grabbed the stake, pulling it out of his body a little. Color began to return to his face, and he grinned evilly – if a little shakily – at Elena. She shook her head, trying to clear it, trying to regain clarity because if she didn't, Frederick was going to kill her twice.

"You –_ bitch," _he wheezed, struggling to sit up, bracing his back against the wall. "Thought – I could trust you – "

Elena dug down deep into herself, finding strength she didn't even know she _had_, and launched herself off the wall, landing on Frederick's body with a thud and grasping the stake in both hands again.

"Yeah," she grunted, shoving the stake in deep this time, so deep she thought she hit his spine. "Well, you thought _wrong." _

Frederick's skin _exploded_ into a sickly gray color and his eyes rolled back into his head as he slumped to the floor, dead as last Christmas. A strange thing happened to Elena, then; instead of getting up and getting the righteous fuck out of there, she yanked the stake out of Frederick's body and impaling him again, then again, and yet _again_. "…can't hurt me anymore…" started to escape her as she staked and staked and staked.

That was how Damon, who was first inside the cottage, found her.

He skidded to a stop, eyes wide as he took in the horrific scene, and then as Stefan and Meredith piled up behind him, he finally snapped out of his daze, moving slowly over to her and kneeling down, careful to avoid the blood and general muck oozing from Frederick's mangled body.

"Elena," he said in a low, soothing voice, "Elena, sweetheart, it's me, it's Damon." He reached out, again at snail speed, and closed his hands around her slender wrists, pulling her hands away from the wooden stake and gently shifting her off of Frederick's body and into his arms. As he stood up with her he noticed that her shirt was practically ripped off her body, and all sorts of dark and scary thoughts wormed their way through his brain. He carried Elena into the living room and sat down on the sofa; Meredith and Stefan were scouting the rest of the small cottage and grounds to see if Frederick had had any help, so they were alone for at least a few minutes.

There were a million questions that Damon wanted to ask Elena – _are you hurt? Did he rape you again? Was Katherine here? How the hell did you manage to kill that asshole Frederick? Will you still love me now that Saint Stefan's back from ever-fucking New Zealand? – _but he held off on all of them, just holding Elena close to him, fixing her shirt, smoothing her hair and telling her over and over that everything was alright, she had saved herself, she was safe now. After a minute Elena's eyes seemed to clear and she stopped her tears, really looking up at Damon as if seeing him for the first time.

"Damon!" She bolted up, the most glorious look Damon had ever seen on her face. Her eyes were shining with happiness, and as he stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers he wondered to himself how he had ever managed to believe that cold-hearted bitch Katherine was _his_ Elena, _his _princess.

But he turned his thoughts away from Katherine, who didn't deserve them, and to Elena, who always would, and he said to her, "I love you, Elena." It seemed to be the only words he had to say to her, the only ones that were _right._

"I love you, Elena," Damon told her, and she opened her mouth to reply, but then she heard a noise behind them, and she looked over Damon's shoulder to see Stefan and Meredith. She had guessed that Stefan had come back from what Katherine had said the last time she had shown up, but Meredith was a complete surprise. Before Stefan could say anything – and she wasn't even sure what the hell he was going to say, he looked very uncomfortable – Meredith stepped forward, a sad expression on her face.

"Elena, I'm so terribly_ sorry _for the role I played in all of this," she said in a solemn tone. "If it's any consolation, I did it to protect your brother." The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. "I – I _love_ him, Elena. He's brought more happiness to my life in these past few months than I've experienced in over two hundred years…he reminds me of my Daniel." As if suddenly remembering something, she dug around in her jeans pocket for a moment, bringing something out and handing it shyly to Elena. It was her vervain locket that Stefan had given her what seemed like a hundred years ago, and that Meredith had taken from her neck so she could compel her. Hesitantly, Elena reached out and took it from the remorseful vampire, starting to fasten it around her neck; Damon took over for her and finished the job.

Meredith nodded slightly. "I'm going to leave you alone now," she said, addressing the brothers and Elena as a whole. "I'm sure you have a lot to discuss…" She broke off, smiling at Elena. "Besides, I want to check on my Jeremy." And then she was gone, Elena's gaze following her out the door…but that was another problem to settle at another time. Right now there were other issues to attend to…such as Stefan, who was standing in front of her, and Damon, whose lap she was still sitting on. She stood up straight, as did Damon; now she was literally and figuratively standing between the two Salvatore brothers. She glanced up at Damon, whose face had become closed off once she had stood, and then at Stefan, who looked desperately unhappy as he gazed back at her. Before Elena could say anything, he spoke up first.

"Elena, I still love you," he told her in a strained voice, stepping closer to her. "I left only to protect you – "

She shook her head and he stopped talking. "Stefan, I really don't want to get into this right now – I need to leave this house, you don't understand what _happened _in here – " She stopped talking, swallowing hard, then turned to Damon, who was taking in this little scene wide-eyed. "Damon, please take me home. I want to go _home."_ Her voice rose a little on the last word and Damon nodded, moving forward.

"I didn't bring a car, I'll have to carry you," he told her in a funny voice, and it took Elena a moment to figure out why he sounded like that, because she had never _seen_ him like that before –

Damon was afraid.

He was afraid she was going to choose Stefan over him.

Elena really didn't want to discuss anything having to do with Stefan _now,_ in this house of horrors; she just wanted to take a shower, sleep for about three years and put on clean clothes. She felt hysteria start to rise inside her again, and tried to shove it back down deep. _Get me out of here,_ a voice seemed to whisper inside her head. _Get me out of here, take me somewhere safe, I don't want to_ be_ in this freaking place anymore._

Damon seemed to sense her problems and swiftly came forward, picking her up in his strong arms and holding her against his muscular chest.

"Hey – " Stefan started to say, frowning at the two of them, but then Damon whispered down to her, "We'll be home in a minute, it's not too far from here," and they were dashing through the woods at top speed. Elena had to turn her face into Damon's jacket to avoid the wind rushing past them, making her hair stream out like little silken streamers.

Then they were at the boarding house, and he took her right inside and upstairs to his room, depositing her onto his bed. She sat up, glancing down at herself as she realized that she had no clothes there. When she looked up, Damon was already nodding.

"I'll go to your place and find something for you to wear," he told her. Before she could stop him, or say anything, he was already gone; she faintly heard the front door close behind him. She just sat there for a moment, luxuriating in the fact that she was _home_, she wasn't locked up, nobody was going to hurt her…then she spied something under the armoire that faced her from across the room.

Curious, Elena got up and went over to the heavy antique piece of furniture, getting down on hands and knees to fish around underneath – her hand closed around something metallic and round, and she brought it out, opening up her fingers to reveal Damon's silver ring, the rubies inside winking up at her. She gave it a funny look, getting back up and sitting down on the bed again, sliding it on her fingers – too big, of course – and finally just settling for wearing it loosely around her own ring finger, closing her fingers tightly so it wouldn't fall off. She was absently playing with it as she tried to relax her brain, thinking about Damon, when she heard a noise and looked up, startled.

Stefan stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, gazing over at her.

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly, and she nodded, bracing herself - _this is not going to be good,_ she thought. He walked over to stand in front of her, his eyes dark green with emotion.

"I meant what I said before," he told her seriously. "I love you, Elena, and I want to be with you. I won't leave you again."

She shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Stefan, I don't even know where to _begin,"_ she replied honestly. "You left me at a time when I needed you the most, when something _horrible _happened to me – you weren't there."

Stefan gave her a look filled with skepticism. "But none of that would have even come to be if I wasn't here in the first place!" He took a step closer to her. "Don't you see, if I left – "

"If you left, you weren't _fixing_ the problem, Stefan," she interrupted. "You were just _running away_ from it, and me._" _ When he started to speak, she cut him off, knowing that he wasn't going to like what she had to say next, but it came out anyway. "Damon never left me, Stefan." She kept her eyes on his face, which seemed to have frozen for a brief second before his brows drew together and his eyes flared.

"Did you sleep with him?" he demanded.

Elena took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and said, "Yes." Just that simple word seemed to send Stefan over the edge and he grabbed her arm, hauling her up to her feet. While he hadn't hurt her, she didn't really want to be manhandled, either, and she yanked her arm out of his grasp.

"Don't _touch_ me like that," she spat. "I've had enough of men being rough with me, thank you very much." As she glared up at Stefan, a hint of remorse glinted in his eyes and then was gone, replaced by anger.

"So you're really together, like he told us," he said in a fury-laced tone, and the last word of Stefan's sentence stuck in Elena's head. Suddenly, she knew.

"_Us?"_ she repeated in amazement. "You were with Katherine?"

Now it was Stefan's turn to blush, and Elena's eyebrows shot up as he actually looked away. "She was very convincing as you," he muttered in self-defense, still refusing to meet her eyes. "She said that she forgave me for going away, and we would be together again."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Just like in 1864, going between the both of you like a freaking Ping-Pong ball?" She shook her head. "I would never do that, Stefan. Either I'm with you, or I'm not. Just because you and Damon are the infamous Salvatore brothers doesn't change that."

"No! It wouldn't have been like that!" Stefan yelled suddenly, emerald eyes fiery with anger. "Besides, aren't you fucking Damon now anyway? What difference would it make if you slept with me too?"

Elena felt her eyes widen as she stared at this man – _he's a vampire, sweetheart, not a man_, a little voice told her helpfully – who she had once loved so desperately. _Was he really_ – "Are you saying what I _think_ you're saying?" she asked very slowly, deliberately. "Because, Stefan, that's sick, and the answer is _no." _

Stefan narrowed his eyes at her. "Leave him, then," he commanded her, moving closer to her. "Leave him and I'll take you away from here, just you and me, I'll _show _you how much I love you – "

Elena wanted to take a step back, Stefan was that close to her now, but the bed was behind her. She leveled her gaze at him, trying hard to look brave, even though this wasn't going in a very good direction at all. "Back off, Stefan," she said in a low, steely voice. "I'm not going anywhere with you, I love _Damon."_ She stood up on tiptoe so she could be at eye level with Stefan. "Do you hear me? I love Damon, so _back off."_

"You should listen to her," a voice spoke up suddenly from behind Stefan. A _furious_ voice.

Elena peeked around Stefan to see Damon standing in the doorway, looking _completely_ pissed off, one of her bags resting on the floor next to him. In a flash he had appeared behind Stefan, grabbing his shoulder and wrenching him back hard; Stefan's back thumped against the wall on the other side of the room. Damon moved to stand in front of Elena, facing his brother, and Elena could see how angry Stefan was; his face suddenly vamped out as he glared at the both of them.

"Fine," he rasped, his fangs catching the light and gleaming with every word he spoke. "You can have her for now, _brother_, but she'll be with me in the end." He made a face. "She could _never_ love you the way she loves me."

"Stefan – " Damon started to say, and now his voice sounded sad but Stefan shook his head, moving toward the doorway and leaving before they could stop him. Elena wasn't really sure she wanted to stop him, anyway; he needed some time to himself.

Damon turned around to face her, a strange mix of anger and pity on his handsome face. Elena spoke up first. "How much of that did you hear?" she asked, and Damon shrugged, his blue eyes on her.

"I got here just when he was asking you to sleep with both of us," he replied in an offhand tone that belied his real feelings; those eyes of his were churning with emotion like an angry sea. Elena shook her head, reaching up and touching his face. His eyes softened as she did that and he caught her hand, kissing her palm and curling her fingers over it.

"Did you hear me say that I love you?" she questioned softly. "I love _you,_ Damon; I don't love Stefan anymore, not like _that_, anyway." Suddenly she remembered something, and she brought her other hand up, taking the ring off her finger. "What happened to this? I found it under your dresser." As the words came out of her mouth, suddenly an awful, terrible thought struck her, so terrible that she felt her knees weaken as she stared up at Damon.

"Damon, did you – you and Katherine – " She couldn't finish the words, abruptly sitting down. He followed, kneeling in front of her and putting his hands just above her knees as he leaned in, pushing his face right up to hers.

"No," he told her. "No, I wasn't with her." He smirked slightly. "She tried, though, but I couldn't, not if she was with Stefan, too." His face clouded a little then, and before she could ask what he was thinking, he said to her, he said very quietly, "Elena, I'm sorry I didn't figure it out earlier, I didn't know it was her, I was so angry about the poisoning, then knowing you, well she, was with Stefan again, it fucked me up inside and I couldn't think straight." He looked so sad that Elena ached to hold him, but he wasn't done talking yet. "I'm sorry, Elena, if I had figured it out sooner you wouldn't have been – gone – for as long as you were," he told her in a voice so low that she had to strain to hear it. "I don't deserve your love."

Elena couldn't speak, so instead she took his ring, which she was still holding, and slid it halfway onto his ring finger; he turned his gaze to what she was doing and lifted his hand slightly so she could finish.

"Where did yours go?" he asked her, and she sighed.

"He crushed it," she replied, and he didn't have to ask who _he _was; his eyes darkened again as he looked at her, then at her empty hand. She waited patiently until he had lifted his eyes to hers and before he could say anything she leaned in, closing her eyes, and kissed him; he responded almost desperately, his arms coming up to draw her in, and they stayed like that for long, long moments. Elena felt like she was back where she belonged, and where she never wanted to leave again, and Damon held her like she was something breakable and very much cherished.

"I love you, Damon," Elena told him the second they had parted. "I love _you." _ She smiled slightly at him, his face so close to hers. "You showed up just a few seconds too late, because you missed the part where I told Stefan that you had never left me, and he did." She shrugged lightly. "I trust you not to hurt me, not to leave me…_to love me."_

Damon's blue eyes were shining down at her. "I _do_ love you," he said to her fiercely. They smiled at each other, secure in their love, and kissed for a very long time, there in Damon's room.

THE END


End file.
